


Love Never Dies

by AnnaCipactli12



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, Game of Thrones (TV), The Tudors (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Body Horror, Complicated Relationships, Gen, HUGE Canon Divergence, Horror, Love never dies, Lust, Magic, Reincarnation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-12
Updated: 2017-03-31
Packaged: 2018-09-23 16:32:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 8
Words: 46,748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9665654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnnaCipactli12/pseuds/AnnaCipactli12
Summary: Inspired by Coppola's take on Bram Stoker's gothic masterpiece 'Dracula'. Arthur Dayne doesn't die but finds himself brought back to life by an unknown source. He is given a chance to bring honor back to his House, but upon finding everyone he held dear, taken from him, he becomes a monster set on corrupting everything and everyone he finds until he finds the woman he loved reincarnated as the unhappy wife of yet another dragon prince. How far will he go to save her? Will he give up what little humanity he has left?





	1. Creatures of the Underworld

**Author's Note:**

> Only the first and last chapters will have first person point of view. Hence, why you will see chapter two until the penultimate chapter written in third person point of view.

_“And will we ever end up together?_  
No, I think not  
for I am not the one.”

**_~Sally’s Song from the Nightmare before Christmas._ **

**The Aftermath of Robert's Rebellion:**

Centuries after the conqueror and his sisters took the seven kingdom by force, I was tasked with looking after the last dragon’s desired consort. I say desired because that is all she was. Desire. Nothing special but a wolf my prince lusted after. But I was a knight of the Kingsguard and recently I had been made Captain of my brotherhood. I was sworn to service. I was the face of knighthood. I never questioned my orders. It was not my place to think or judge, just to obey.

Rhaegar was a good prince, a good master. I was certain that whatever plans he had for this woman, they would never interfere with his duties, especially those that had to do with keeping his lawful wife and legitimate heirs safe. But … as my brother used to tease me when I was young, I was wrong.

When Ned Stark and his companion left me for dead, I woke up and I found that Rhaegar’s loud-mouthed whore was dead, her babe taken from her. Probably being held by her brother. I heard the canons boom. There had been no canon fire since a prince of Dorne had died. Yet I knew that this sort of canon fire was not meant to tell Dornish citizens of their Prince’s death, but rather something more terrible.

I rushed to my horse and headed to Starfall. “No.” There was nothing there but misery. My family’s Maester told me that after receiving my swords, she had flung herself from the palace.

“We recovered her body thanks to the fishermen who spotted floating nearby. I am sorry, Ser Arthur.”

“Do not call me, Ser Arthur, Maester. I am legally dead.” The maester said nothing. My brother Allem said we should burn the body to bring back honor to our family.

“No.” I said strongly. “She died because of Stark-“

“Brother, you don’t know that.”

“First that wolf bitch stole Rhaegar from Elia and now this.” Oh, I wasn’t going to let him get away with this. I ordered my brother to have a candle-night vigil for her. But he didn’t listen. That night I woke to the smell of incense.

“What have you done?” I ask Allem as I stormed into the chapel of Our Lady Mother. The cult is very popular here in Dorne, especially among the first families.

“I am sorry brother, but it was what the gods would have wanted. You know what the seven pointed star says. In the book of the Mother it is written, a maiden who has sold her honor and given up her life before the gods deemed it her time” he began, reciting from that blasted book “she must be purified through fire.”

“You son of a bitch!” Gods forgive me. I punched him. He looked at me like I had committed a sin but it was him who should be ashamed. He burned her body, our sister’s body. “She died because she had lost her bastard child and thought she lost me too. What she did was no sin.”

“That is not what the book says. Her soul is now purified thanks to the Mother’s infinite mercy.” The Maester and the Silent sisters next to him said.

“Fuck the Mother.” Everyone gasped. I threw the Seven Pointed Star then took Dawn and stabbed the symbol of our faith at its center. This time no one gasped. Instead they screamed as blood began to pour out of it.

I turned to the scared congregation and laughing madly I called them “Ninnies” and “Cowards”. Then, to add more insult to injury, I took the golden bowel of sacred offerings, held it close to where I had stabbed the Holy of Holies, and when it was filled, began to drank from it. I felt empowered, free. Power was freedom. Whatever magic was responsible for this, I thanked it. It made me feel alive.

My brother tried to stop me but I didn’t let him. For what he’d done, I took Dawn and ran it through him.

“Heresy!”

“Kin slayer!”

“Gods damn you!”

They all said and I laughed at them. I never felt more alive. Seeing my brother on the floor, writhing in pain reminded me of when I had my first kill. Somehow, I no longer felt saddened by it. I could feel his heartbeat, growing slower each second. A tear fell down his left eyes, ant the euphoria I felt earlier died.

 _He is your brother._ I knelt down. Something was telling him not to waste any more time and bite him, so I did. He bit his lip, trying not to scream. I doubt that he could, he was too weak to move, let alone emit any sound. After I was done, I slit my wrist and let him partake of the forbidden fruit as I had done. I didn’t know what effect the blood from the Holy of Holies would have on him; a part of me didn’t want him to take it, fearful that it would take away Allem’s goodness. As much as it was a pain in the neck at times, it was also the reason why I loved him.

When it was enough, I pulled my wrist and let him rest then turned back to the scared congregation.

“You are a monster.” The Maester said. I laughed. “Seven Hells with you and your line. Your line is cursed and will forever be cursed!”

“See how much I care.” I said with a cynical smile. I took Dawn and before my brother could tell me ‘no’ I killed every holy man and holy women. All that remained were our tenants. I gave them a simple option. Either live forever or die. Most of them chose death; their children on the other hand, were too frightened to voice their opinions.

I asked them again “Do you wish to live forever?” Huddled together, the children looked at one another then back at him. Uncertainty shone in their eyes. The braves of them, chose to come forward and spit at my feet. I chuckled. This little girl was trying to get a reaction out of me but years of being next to insolent men, had prepared me for all sorts of things.

“I will ask you again, child. Do you wish to live forever?”

She spat again, then turned to her friends and told them to run. They didn’t get past the door when I got to it first and locked them. They tried to find other way out but it was futile. When they finally calmed down, they knelt down and begged the Seven to spare them.

“The gods are not here. It will be better if you just say yes so we can get this over with. Trust me, it will only hurt the first time.”

Allem stopped the girl who had taken a dagger from one of the fallen villagers to use it on her and her friends.

“Shh, shh it is okay. He is right. It will only hurt the first time.” Allem said, embracing her.

“I don’t want to be cursed.”

“You won’t be. You will have everything that you want. My brother and I will watch over you and your friends. Trust us.”

She wrapped her hands around his neck and began to cry.

 _Damn your good nature._ If I knew that I only needed to say sweet words, I would have recited from my book of poetry which I kept hidden in my old rooms at Starfall. _I should have told them a story._ I thought as more children surrounded Allem who had knelt so they would no longer be afraid. _Although, are they really that deserving of such beauty?_ I was not a good writer. Whenever I wrote something good, it was because it was meant for Elia.

After Allem finished, the sun came down and I went back to my horse. Allem and the children who were still awake didn’t question me. Why should they? I was their lord and master, nothing more. Allem on the other hand was my brother and he knew the reason why I was risking my safety.

I had to see her. News of the battle at the Trident had reached us but Robert’s armies were still days away from the Red Keep. If it was well guarded by King Aerys, then they would be safe. _But not for long._ I had to get to her before Robert’s men did.

As I raced to the Red Keep, I saw flashes of her. Smiling down at me, thanking me for rescuing her and little Aegon and Rhaenys laughing at whatever faces I did.

 _They will be safe with me. We will live apart from the rest of the world._ With me as their guardian, they will want for nothing. I decided as I made my way to King’s Landing that I would not turn them. Elia and her offspring could remain as they wished to be unless they ask me to and I had a sinking feeling that they wouldn’t because their priority would be to regroup so they could take down the usurpers and put the rightful king on the throne.

Something told me that Aerys wouldn’t last long on the throne. Good, I didn’t want him to. It was because of him that we had a rebellion. If he had only commanded his (then) captain of the Kingsguard to return Lyanna, me and Ser Gerold Hightower would have handed her over because regardless of our love for the Prince of Dragonstone, our first duty was to obey the King.

The wolf bitch would bite, kick and scream but she would be back where she belonged, forced to marry a man she didn’t love. Problem solved! But no, things were never that easy with Aerys. He had to rule through fear, otherwise he wasn’t happy.

Some of my late brothers said it was because he heard mysterious voices. Some of them claimed to have heard them too saying “Burn them all!” Nothing but nonsense. Ramblings from a lunatic. That is what years of captivity and being the product of incest will get you. He laughed as he thought of a joke to tell Elia when I got to her.

But I never got to tell her that joke because when, to the shock of everyone who thought me dead, I arrived at the Red Keep, the bodies of Elia and her offspring were on the floor, covered in Lannister cloaks.

Lord Eddard Stark gave me a sympathetic glance. Taking his helmet off, Robert Baratheon who sat on the Iron Throne laughed as his gaze moved from me to the bodies of the late Princess and her offspring.

“Ser Arthur Dayne! We have heard a lot of rumors about your death but that is what they are, nothing but rumors. Here you are! Good as new. Welcome home Ser Dayne. It is a sign from the gods that we have been blessed. A new dawn has come.”

Everyone cheered.

I fell to my knees. _Elia_. I looked up at Robert Baratheon. Bloody son of a whore! And then to Lord Stark. He came down and told me he was sorry. I didn’t want his pity. “This is your fault.” I said as I stood up.

The Lannisters, including Lord Tywin’s prized son, Ser Jaime, and the rest of the people gathered in the throne room stopped cheering and looked at me with wide eyes.

“You were just following orders Ser Arthur, it was that silver-haired shit lord and his family. If you must be angry at someone, take your anger at them. Ned here was just following my orders.”

“I do not mean your wolf whore you pathetic excuse for a King!” I yelled. At once every sword was raised. I laughed madly. I could kill all of them and take the throne myself and plunge the seven kingdoms into the darkness that was prophesized by the Mad King.

“Careful, Ser Arthur. You are still a member of the kingsguard. Your first duty is to your King.”

“You are no king of mine. All of you betrayed your oaths especially you.” I turned to Ned. Through his eyes I saw that my eyes had turned from violet to red. Everyone seems to have seen it as even Lord Tywin stepped back. Though there was no fear in Lord Tywin’s eyes, there was caution and I would use that to my advantage if his hot-tempered son tried something.

“Your family has always prided itself as being honorable. Your surrogate father says his motto is High as Honor but you didn’t blink twice when it came to rescuing your sister. Shall I tell everyone the things she did?”

Ned scowled at him. “My sister died from the injuries she received from your prince. She died in a bed of her own blood. I could have saved her if you let me get to her.”

“I was keeping my promise to my Prince. I did what all of you should have done!” I screamed. “I have lived by the good book. I have given my life to serving a mad king because that is what I was swore to do when I joined this sacred brotherhood.” I laughed again and to shock them even more, I took my armor off and threw it in the King’s direction then started to walk away.

Robert screamed and screamed until his voice became hoarse while Ned tried to remind me of my duty but I just kept walking. Nobody said anything. Even in my disgrace, I was still admired by my former brothers.

As I got back on my horse I turned my head back to the red keep, looking at it one last time before I rode back to Starfall.

* * *

**England ... Over a century later:**

If there was one thing Catherine of Aragon hated was childbirth. It was messy and most of all, she had to be surrounded with a horde of hens who didn’t stop talking about how perfect their men were or how, in the case of my unwed maids, they were hoping to catch the eye of one of my husband’s handsome new rogues.

Wolsey was exasperated. He was tired of the new men that hung around the King. He called them vulgar and simple. I wanted to laugh every time I heard the butcher’s son say that. The irony there! If only there was someone brave enough to tell him so.

As I told Maria and Maud to stop gawking at the men outside who had just killed a bull (in my honor apparently), and come resume our little game of cards, I felt a pain in my mid-section.

“Get the midwives!”

It wasn’t long before Maria turned like these hens and told me to be calm. “Maria, I am fine.” I nearly screamed at her but then when I got to scream, I threw my head back. God, this child hurt more than her brother.

When Harry was born, it didn’t hurt this much. My sweet boy. Just thinking of him makes me giddy. I couldn’t wait to give him another brother. Edward was born right after Flodden. Surprisingly, the labor pains didn’t hurt. His birth was quite easy. Harry on the other hand, felt like hell on earth.

Now I take it back. I would welcome ten more pains like his birth than this. This child wasn’t easy and it was taking too long. I could see by everyone’s faces, that they were growing worried.

I asked Maria what the King had told Maud Parr. “How do you know she’s spoken to the King?”

I rolled my eyes. As if she doesn’t know me. “We have been in my parents’ court Maria. You are forgetting whose daughter I am from and besides, I know that look. It is the same look my father described to me when my mother had trouble having me.” A thought crossed my mind and I grew worried. “Please don’t tell me that Henry has instructed Doctor Linacre to give up on my child.”

“No, of course not but …” She bit her lip, a sign that showed that there was something else.

“Maria, please, tell me.”

She leaned forward and whispered in my ear, “The King is terrified that you could die and he told the ambassador from Westeros that you could still have more children so…”

I finish for her, “Better the child than me.”

“The King loves you, Catalina. He only wants what is best for you.”

“I don’t care. It is my child and I would rather I die then live knowing that I could have done more for this child.”

“Catalina, don’t do this to yourself. To me. Do not leave me alone in this world.” Maria said. Tears rolled down her cheeks.

“Never mi fiel amiga. Amigas por siempre.” I say to her in our native Castilian.

As the pains began, I curtly tell Doctor Linacre to get out. The doctor says he is doing what His Majesty has ordered him to do. “I do not care, with all due respect, if it is God’s will that I die then His will be done. But I will not forsake this child.” I say hotly then begin to push.

As the pains become unbearable and the doctor struggles to convince Maria to have me drink something that it will ease the pain, which I suspect won’t and instead will induce a miscarriage, a midwife makes everyone sigh in relief as she says she finally sees the head.

A royal physician can’t touch a queen’s body for her body is sacred but given the circumstances, he helps the midwives deliver my baby. When the ordeal is finally over I cough. I am given a new tonic, one I trust is nothing more than a simple herbal concoction for my nerves.

In the past, I asked what was it. Now, I only ask how is my child. I think about what Maria said earlier. I had done my duty to the Tudor Dynasty, I had given England two boys. Henry’s dynasty was secure. So when the doctor gave me a sorrowful look and motioned to the midwife to tell me I gave birth to a healthy, baby girl I wasn’t mad.

After we were both cleaned, I demanded she be brought to me. “Hello, gorgeous.” I say to her. She is so perfect. My sweet boys will be disappointed to know their mommy has given them a sister instead of a brother as I promised them, but who cares what they or the rest think. I had a given a birth to a Princess and unlike her brothers, she was all mine.

“She looks a lot like His Majesty, congratulations, my lady.” Lady Boleyn says.

“Thank you lady Boleyn. Maud, tell the King the glorious news. Make sure our boys are there.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

After Maud tells the King, Henry bursts into my chambers and greets me with a smile. He thinks I am stupid not to see the marks on his neck or paint on his color. Deep down I am disappointed. After all these years of marriage, I would have thought I would be the only one for him but alas! Men never change.

“She is beautiful.” Henry said. “May I?”

“Of course, dear husband. She is England’s delight. His Majesty’s first Princess.” I say and hand her over after he sits next to me on my bed.

There is nothing but pure love and pride from Henry’s eyes. I can tell that she will be the pearl of his world as I am the jewel in my father’s eyes. Thinking of my father, I can’t help but be somewhat sad. Juana and I never got along. I got more along with Maria and Juan, but Juana was a pain in the neck to be around. She was always screaming and being angry about something. What? I have no idea but as I got older and I realized that my father loved me more than her, I never wasted an opportunity to remind her of it. Seeing Henry holding our child, I can’t help but thank God for her. If what the royal physician said was true, then I might never give birth again, making my baby girl, free of any sisterly envy.

“Henry,” I say softly.

“Yes, my queen of hearts?”

I smile at that nickname of his for me. _He still fancies himself the knight in shining armor._ “the doctor, I don’t know if Lady Parr told you but he said that I-“

Henry interrupts me with an equally soft tone. “I know. Lady Parr didn’t tell me but Doctor Linacre did on my way here. It is alright, love. We have all the children we could need. Two sons and now a beautiful Princess who will be a heartbreaker like her mother.”

I was so happy. Nothing could spoil this moment. Absolutely nothing.


	2. Innocence is not eternal, damnation is

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Over a century after Arthur became the undead, he finds a way to take revenge on the descendants of the Houses who took everyone he loved, but with the arrival of King Henry VIII's envoy, his priorities change.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Those of you who have read Dracula by Bram Stoker, know the novel was written in epistolary form (meaning as a series of letters, logs, diary entries, you name it). Francis Ford Coppola, like every other cinematic version, differed from this format to show something more erotic and meaningful that would have the audiences sympathize with the villain. As a fan of both versions and everything related to vampires, I decided to incorporate both versions into my story, but the vampires will differ from those described in Stoker and Coppola.

_"Go without fire and no one can save me but you_  
_Strange what desire will make foolish people do_  
_I never dreamed that I'd meet somebody like you_  
_I never dreamed that I'd lose somebody like you._  
_I don't want to fall in love_  
_this world is only going to break your heart_  
_... with you."_  
**_~Wicked, version by Coves._ **

_"Death is only the beginning.”_

_~ **“The Mummy” (1999)**_

Catherine of Aragon had started out being envied by nearly every woman in Christendom until she wasn’t. She believed that it was her destiny to be Queen. When Henry came to her, as a knight in shining armor, ready to rescue her from near penury, she thought that she was finally going to have what she always wanted, what was promised to her since birth. To be Queen was every Princess’ goal, but for Catherine, it was more than that. It was her destiny.

As the years went by however, Catherine became bitter. To the public, she was still the Queen of Hearts, but in private she was a sad, bitter woman who had seen the man she once loved devolved into a man who looked elsewhere for company and worse, her sons were the same.

Only Mary brought her joy. Named after her paternal aunt, Henry VIII’s younger sister, the Queen Dowager of France and Duchess of Suffolk; Catherine watched Princess Mary grow into a lovely young woman. Precocious, extrovert but always mindful of her virtue.

There were many suitors asking for her hand in marriage. One of them was the Emperor himself, Catherine’s favorite nephew.

To him, Catherine was like the mother he never had. Even though his was still living and envious of the attention her youngest and only living sister was getting, Juana could do nothing but hear as Catherine grew more popular with the commons. Their niece, Isabella of Portugal had died after giving birth to the Emperor’s second son. The baby died days after. Distraught, but not too distraught, to receive the foreign ambassadors, he found himself smiling again when he looked at his first cousin’s portrait.

The first time he had met Princess Mary, the Emperor was a twenty year old and Princess Mary was nothing more than a midget. Now she was fully grown and from the looks of it, exquisite.

Catherine was joyous to hear of his marriage offer. She and Henry hardly spoke, except in public but today was different. The imperial ambassador, Chapuys, assured her that her nephew was very interested and Catherine was sure that if she could make his offer attractive to her husband, he would not listen to that odious new wench of his, Anne Boleyn who had recently been married to Henry Percy.

Anne had been among the few ladies that Catherine had respected. She believed her when she claimed she hadn’t known her sister was sleeping with the King. The two had played card games, and put up various plays for the rest of her ladies and foreign dignitaries but when she saw her on Henry’s lap, passionately kissing him, she lost it. She asked Henry to throw her out and send her back to her husband and he responded with “I can’t ask her that.” She received a visit from her boys that night, telling her they heard. She expected them to humor her, please her, tell her that they were on her side but no. They were Henry’s boys through and through. Edward even admitted that he had been with the eldest Boleyn sister and thought of marrying one of their cousins, an impoverished Howard who was named after Catherine.

 _Sometimes I don’t know what sort of children I gave birth to._ _One person I am sure will never betray me is Mary. My sweet, precious Mary. She is the only one besides Maria, in my husband’s court who I can trust._

* * *

Newly ennobled Viscount Rochford was on a dangerous mission. If he didn’t fail, he’d make an impression on his beloved back home. It was the best thing his friend, Mary’s former lover, the Duke of York, could think of to get him out of that marriage arrangement with that conniving bitch, Jane Parker.

As he got from the boat and into a carriage, he wasn’t given anything other than a simple greeting by Westeros’ top ambassadors. They were from the North, an independent Kingdom -or so they said- and the South that still ruled over every kingdom in the continent.

 _I can’t complain. He thought. This is for her and if it weren’t for Lord Parker’s daughter, where would the fun be?_  
It was through Jane that he got to know his true love. Although truth be told, if the Queen were to find out, she’d probably sent her packing to her cousin in Germany, the Netherlands or Spain, or wherever the hell he was these days.

He joked with the Princess that it was absurd she could be marrying someone like that. People called him “the chin”. She told him “It is not his chin that will be making love to me at night and giving me royal babies.”

It made him laugh when he remembered her words. Another reason he was grateful for his friendship with Prince Edward and having known that Parker wench. If it weren’t for the latter, he wouldn’t have locked his eyes on Mary, and if it weren’t for the former, he would have never gotten past a ‘hello’. He couldn’t believe how shy he was the first time he talked to her. He was not this shy with women, but Princess Mary totally disarmed him.

He was going to be happy the minute he got back home and got to see her again. He couldn’t wait to tell her of his voyages. But for now, off to do this contract at Starfall.

 _Why on God’s green earth is His Majesty considering doing deals with Heretics?_ If there was one thing he and Mary could agree on was that the seven kingdoms still believed in false gods and needed to be taught right and secondly, England had no reason to do business with them.

As he got out of the carriage, after he was told they had finally arrived at Starfall. He noticed it was nightfall. “Shouldn’t we have arrived an hour earlier?” He asked his groom. His groom shrugged his shoulders. He told George that they had some trouble on the road but he was asleep so they didn’t want to wake him.

“You should have Maurice. I suppose it is all right, ah well, we are here. We should make the most of it. It looks ancient. Very ancient.” Viscount Rochford said. He admired the structure. He had been to France, part of the Empire and all of the British Isles, but he had never seen a structure as massive as this one. It was big enough to rival the Red Keep, and that was pretty big!

Maurice nodded. He told George that it had been built thousands of years ago before Christianity reached Europe. “More has been added to it since the last lord gave his lordship to his brother.”

“Can they do that?”

Maurice nodded. “I suppose so. It has been done many times over. There are rumors that current King is a descendant from someone who came back from the dead and after he gave up his command of the Night’s watch, he was declared King of the North.”

“Bloody pagans and their tales.” He said, although it was more to himself than to Maurice.

A servant, a young boy who couldn’t have been older than fifteen came out of the castle and showed them inside. “Lord Dayne will be here soon, my lords.”

“He is not a lord, I am…” But George stopped when the boy walked away and melded with the shadows. “For being such an ancient family, they sure forget how to make someone feel at home.”

“I don’t get it. His Grace said that this was the oldest castle in the Seven Kingdoms and that its occupant has always looked to its keep, but it looks …”

“Dreary.” George finished for him. He sighed. His sighs resounded again, like echoes. This castle really looked old and not just old as in filled with cobwebs and dust old, but really old. _It should be destroyed._ A thing like this should only be appreciated from afar or reconstructed.

It was a good thing that His Majesty back home had invested his money in reconstructing palaces and keeping the older ones still in use so they’d never fall into decay.

A place like this, he thought again as he looked up trying to make anything from the dim light, should be taken more care of. He thought about the rumors. Nonsense, really. But some of them had caught his attention. It was said that the Lord lived with his brother. That a curse had been placed on his family after their ancestress flung herself from the castle tower after she heard of her siblings’ death. The child was raised by the villagers’ children who’d lost their parents in some sort of plague. Her descendants were Allem and Lord Arthur Dayne who were the last of their line.

Poor blokes. It was good thing that he would never have to experience that misfortune.

He was brought back from his chain of thought by said brothers.

“My lord Viscount Rochford. Master Lemaitre.” Lord Arthur Dayne greeted them curtly. His brother introduced himself. There was an air on the latter that made them feel at home.

“My lord Dayne, Master Dayne.”

“You were supposed to arrive before nightfall. His Grace, King Henry VIII said that you would be on schedule so we could begin negotiations.”

“Yes, well, we had some bumps along the road and pardon me, my lord but the roads here are treacherous.” George said, trying to remedy what felt like an awkward situation.

“No worries, my brother is just impatient. He doesn’t like waiting for his guests for too long. He thought you had decided not to come.”

“The king of England is a man of his word, my lord. Once he makes a vow, he intends to keep it. I hope that my tardiness didn’t dissuade you from his offer.”

“Of course not, but you must also forgive me if I am skeptical. I have made the same offer to his nephew and the King Portugal and both have rejected me so I don’t intend to keep my hopes up with your master.”

George didn’t know what to say. Allem Dayne broke the ice by calling one of the maids to show them to their rooms. It was a girl as young as the servant who showed them in.

“Amarna, take them to the West Wing and tell the kitchen staff to prepare a hot meal.”

“Yes, master.” She said then curtsied to Lord Arthur Dayne voicing a barely audible “My lord” then motioned George and Maurice to their respective chambers.

 _This isn’t too bad. George thought, once he was inside._ To think that everyone had warned him that Lord Dayne was intimidating. The only thing that worried him about that man was his eyes. Perhaps it was his imagination but George could’ve sworn he saw them change from bright violet to red.

 _I am too tired._ The other servants brought the rest of his things from the carriage. He changed into something more suitable and together with Maurice, they went downstairs to the mess hall where they dined with their mysterious hosts.

**~o~**

After dinner they went to Lord Dayne’s office. “Is your brother not going to be present? This concerns him as well.”

Arthur didn’t like the tone that George took but said nothing of it. “My brother left me in charge of our family’s keep for a reason. You can find him in the entertainment chambers where he spends most of his days concocting some tale of maidens and dragons.”

“Entertainment chamber?”

“It is what we call our newest wing. We have most of our family’s legacy there. Scrolls, the newest books from the continent, Europe, and delicacies from the East, particularly the YiTi Empire.”

“Your brother has good taste then. Most men would kill to have access to such knowledge.”

“Most men only care about feeding their families, not showing off.” Arthur Dayne said. “Do you have the papers for me to sign?”

“Maurice.” George motioned to his servant. He showed the Lord of Starfall the maps and the papers he’d be signing that would give him legal rights over all those properties.

“Is that it? I just sign and I can have His Grace’s guarantee that I can do with them as I please.”

“Not entirely. You will have to agree to give up ten percent of your annual income to the church and another ten to the crown.” Seeing the Lord of Starfall’s glare, George justified it. “It is the way things are done. It would be the same if you were a count, a duke or a foreign prince.”

“How much do you owe to the crown?”

“My family doesn’t owe anything. Our debts were paid off before my father was born through his years of service. His Majesty has never doubted our loyalty, being to him and to him only.”

Arthur didn’t miss the younger man’s omission. He gave a shot-lived grin. Dipping his feather pen on ink, he signed every last one of them then stamped his seal, the sigil of House Dayne, on them after he folded them.

“His Majesty will be pleased. Northumnbria, East Anglia, are among the most profitable lands although…”

“What?”

George wasn’t sure if he should say this but what hell. The man had already sealed the deal and it wasn’t like he would be calling him stupid. The man already was for buying the last two properties so close to the King’s favorite palace.

“Why London?”

Arthur shrugged. “It is the epicenter of culture in England isn’t it? And it is where the capital is located, I figured I will have plenty of interesting people to meet.”

“London is a big city but with all due respect, not many nobles live there except for a month so when the King is in court and that hardly lasts before he moves to another palace.”

“Let me ask you something Lord Rochford, do you love London?”

“Yes, who doesn’t?”

“If you could, you’d stay there.”

“If I could, I would but I’d be broke if I did.” George said earnestly.

Arthur grinned again. “I feel giddy about cities. When I was a child I would dream about traveling the world. My brother loves to learn about new places so I figured, why not visit a real city like when we were young. I have more than enough money to pay for its keep.”

George nodded. He thought the man was crazy. _He will a broken man after he  realizes how expensive it is._ George’s father could barely manage his own property the first year when his older sister had caught the King’s eye. If it weren’t for Anne being more successful, they would have lost it.

As George began to roll up the maps, a locket he thought he had tightly wrapped around his wrist fell and opened to reveal two miniature portraits.

If it wasn’t for his years of self-control, Arthur would have bit part of his tongue then launched at the man and demanded an answer from him.

“Terribly sorry about that. Is something wrong, my lord?” George asked, seeing the man show emotion for the first time since their arrival.

“Is this your fiancée?” Arthur Dayne asked, knowing that was the word his people used for betrothed. It was something fashionable that Westeros had taken to use it as well.

“Not yet. She is the King’s daughter, Her Highness Princess Mary. Can you keep a secret?” Arthur’s shadow silently moved closer to George. Before he could take notice, Arthur forced it to its rightful place. “Of course.”

“I promised her I would make her the happiest woman on Earth, love her, worship her as Eros did with Psyche. I intend to make myself worthy of her so His Majesty will accept me into his family. The Duke of York proposed to my cousin last month, the wedding was celebrated a day before my departure. I am glad. Kitty is as good as she is beautiful and she will make him merry.”

Arthur knew about that and no doubt that cousin of his, would be used as precedent for Viscount Rochford to gain his master’s approval. What intrigued him wasn’t that though. As George boasted of his family and his dream bride, showing her to Arthur once again through the locket, the former kingsguard’s eyes were hooked on the miniature next to her.

An older woman, still beautiful with dark blue eyes, olive oil skin and raven hair. There was no mistake. It was like his Elia. Except for her eyes, she was an exact copy of her former self. _She hasn’t lost her grace._ He heard tales of England’s Spanish Queen, how she had led the English troops to victories against her brother-in-law, the dread King of Scots. People whispered that it was through her sweet and gentle nature that she had won the hearts of the English people. _Just as she would have done if she had been allowed to be Queen of the Seven Kingdoms._

She had been reborn. He could almost smile at that. As he looked closer he saw that there was sadness in her eyes. To a fool, it would seem as if she was the happiest woman on earth, but Arthur knew better. _Even after all she has suffered, she is still paired to a man who doesn’t appreciate her._

“Mary tells me that she is the spitting image of her mother. Her Majesty loves to boast to everyone that Mary will be the next Holy Roman Empress. She is rather careful about it, but sometimes she can’t resist telling Mary to wear the brooch her cousin gave her. Among His Majesty’s circle we have a name for her -‘Catherine the Arrogant.”

Arthur hid one of his hands behind his back, turning it into a fist. His shadow advanced towards George, wrapping its hands around the younger man’s shadow. Arthur forced it back when George looked at him again, his eyes beaming with hope. _Fool._ Why would a royal marry someone as low as him? George Boleyn had a point though. The English Princess looked **nothing** like her mother. _Elia’s daughter would be prudent and not fall for the first idiot she sees._ And she would never allow anyone to speak of her mother in that way.

“I have heard stories of your master’s Queen. They call her the warrior queen.” Arthur said in a neutral tone.

“Warrior she is, but even my fairest Princess agrees, that the title is misleading. Her mother did not lead troops into battle the way her father and the King of England have done. When Her Majesty tells Mary she will one day assume her husband’s duties, she becomes angry when Mary replies that as Regent, she will do more than just barking orders.”

“She sounds like His Majesty’s humble daughter.” Arthur said with an angry expression that the young Viscount didn’t notice. He thought of the Lord of Starfall’s words as a compliment to his intended bride’s intelligence.

“She is. His Majesty calls her his pearl. Nobody is happier to be in her presence than me. I doubt the Spanish Infanta,” George said, saying the name Infanta with a twisted grin and then laughing at it like it was some dirty word “agrees but then again why would she when the Spanish are not known for their good common sense.”

Arthur turned around to hide his disgust. _I made a vow._ He reminded himself, but that was so long ago. The gods were not known for their righteousness. If they did, he would have Elia by his side and Ashara would be alive as well as her child.

“Pardon me, my lord but are you all right? You seem distraught.”

“Yes, I am. Your passion for Her Highness, reminded me of someone I once knew.” Arthur said. “Love … is a wonderful thing, I am happy that the fates have smiled upon you.”

“I consider myself very lucky indeed. Anne and Mary, my sisters, they’ve always told me ‘follow your heart, George. It will send you on a wondrous path’. I can’t help but smile. I know it is not your fate but back home, we treasure our Lord and savior Jesus Christ. I prayed for him to deliver me from harm and he answered my prayers.” George said. “I hope that you and your brother are lucky in love as I. If you don’t mind me asking, who is the lucky lady who captured your heart?”

“It was a long time ago.” Arthur said, not wishing to get into any details but the man hard pressed him. “We were young, younger than your royal sweetheart. She was a lady of a great house. Her brother didn’t want her to marry me because he thought I was not worthy.”

“I am sorry.” George said, genuinely sympathetic for the older man. “Love should not be kept, regardless of your station. Love should be free.”

“Sadly that is not the way of the world. I learned the hard way, how treacherous love can be. I pray that you never suffer the same misfortune.” Arthur said.

George thanked him. He put the pendant in one of his packets then summoning his service, the two of them went to their respective chambers.

George couldn’t help but wake up when he heard female wailing. He followed the wailing until he got to one of the castle’s oldest parts. It looked even more worn than the hall he and Maurice had been received in.

**_Come and find me._** Voices called to him. He smiled as he saw flashes of Mary, her red hair loose after she took off her French hood and snood. He had begged her to let herself go but she said she wouldn’t give herself to him until he came home a winner.

Raptured by the mysterious voice, he walked deeper into the room until he found a large bed. Mary’s naked form flashed before his eyes. He smiled and got on. “Lie down.” His beautiful princess said. He did and as he did he felt her hands undo his hose, then touch his groin.

“Sweet Jesus!” He cried. He felt her tongue on his pulsating member. He closed his eyes after he saw her let go and descend towards it.

If this was a dream, he didn’t want it to end. For what else could explain this glorious experience? He hoped that when he was back, with a title making an Earl or better yet a Duke, he would have something like this or better.

When she stopped, he opened his eyes and to his horror, it wasn’t Mary but the servant girl who had helped take his things to his room. “What in the hell?” This glorious dream had transformed into a hideous nightmare.

Her golden hair, blue eyes, pale skin seemed to become more visible after she advanced to him. “Relax, I can still be her if you’d like.”

“No! Get off me! Witch!” George screamed trying to get her off him but it was like he was battling two men.

She giggled. “My name is Amarna. I have had my share of naughty. You want to hear about the first one I tasted?”

“I don’t want to hear about your witchcraft.”

“Witchcraft?” She giggled harder. “Honey, it is more than that. I can make you mine. You can be my pet. My personal fuck toy.”

“No!” He said then punched her in the face but that did nothing except make her more interested.

“It will be all right. The first time it hurts but then it becomes tolerable. Mmm,” She said as she pinned him down and leaned forward to taste her neck. He must have been poisoned or given some hallucinogen because saw her bearing canine fans. He screamed for help but help never came.

Arthur decided to make his presence known at last. He told Amarna it was enough.

“But my lord, you promised me some fun. It’s been over three decades since I had a fuck toy. All the other girls get to have theirs.”

“Others? What sort of place is this?” George asked then watched as Arthur bared his fangs. “This is not real. It is some sort of trick. It can’t be real.”

“But it is. You have heard the tales of the undead. Except we are very much alive. More than alive, we feed on the likes of you. I was going to let you go but when you showed me the double portrait …” He paused then grinned at him. “My priorities changed.” He motioned to another figure who had just come into the room, another ‘servant girl’ whom he called ‘Andrea’ to hold him down.

"How far would you go for your sweet Princess?"

George's expression hardened. "You would do everything and anything. So would I for mine but ..." he paused then grinned. A mocking grin as he sensed the younger man's distress. "I will grant you the mercy I was never given by my gods." He advanced towards him. "All of us were damned the day I stabbed the Holy of Holies. At first I thought it was the gods' sick sense of humor. For decades I watched them" he gestured to his young servants "age slowly, running freely, doing what they want at my expense. Amarna was the first one to be turned by my brother after I turned him."

"Why are you doing this?"

"That is the big question isn't why I chose your petty princess. People always love to complicate things when the simplest answer is often the correct one. The same reason every man wants to punish those who injured him. Revenge." His eyes turned red again. "I cursed the fates when my family was taken from me. Now, thanks to you I have the chance to get it back and make the descendants of the peopme who took them from me, pay." 

George’s pleas only made it worse when Arthur leaned down and bit his shoulder. Blood was life to him, it was also the conduit to the soul. He saw George’s recent memories, his courtship of the King’s pearl, the King and more importantly the Queen.

Arthur wiped the blood trailing from his mouth with his sleeve the motioned to Andre and Amarna to resume their fun with him, then called on Mors to bring him their favorite snack. George screamed when he saw what it was.

Arthur then added, "Your Princess will be the key to my victory."

George gritted his teeth. "You soulless bastard! If you touch her-"

"I will do more than that. I am going to give her a gift which will free her from her tedious existence and being the good filial daughter that she is, she will deliver her mother into my hands. I told you I did not wish my misery on any man, much less you. I can tell by your actions that you love her and that is admirable but" his voice softened, although his deadly tone remained. "if your love for her is pure, then one more obstacle in your path will mean nothing."

He told the young women to resume their feasting. Before he made it out the door, he told George why he was so interested in his beloved's mother. George did not want to believe what he heard. Like before, he tried to convince himself that this was all a nightmare. A twisted, sick dream that must have been the product of some dirty poem he had read from his sister's former lover, Thomas Wyatt, before he sailed from England.

"You do not believe me. Ask yourself, why would a man like me be interested in a meaningless Isle? I suspected ever since I heard songs of her bravery but I never dared to venture there until news came from one of Andre's pets,"

George felt revulsion at how the Lord of Starfall referred to his human prisoners. 

"... that the Queen was getting on in years. In spite of her well preserved beauty the King is no longer interested in her. She is as you said the butt of jokes. Her precious daughter, your master's saint jewel who should be defending her, instead partakes in them. What more can be expected from someone descended from a line of butchers and usurpers after all." 

George heard him smirk. "It doesn't matter what we do, how much we pray, there is always going to be people who are going to be determined to take everything from us. I would have left you where you were. Living off your fantasies, but hearing of the Queen's suffering became a cross I could no longer bear." He finished then left.

The young women returned their attention to the meal he brought them. George screamed, hoping to distract them so that they'd leave the poor infant alone but it proved fruitless. After they were done with him, they moved to him.

* * *

The sea captain didn't ask much questions when he was given his instructions by one the Lord of Starfall's "day servants". He thought the Dornish were odd. This was his first time sailing to this part of Westeros. A devoted Catholic, he crossed himself every time he woke and before he went to sleep. He heard tales from some of his former colleagues that they were libertine and didn't care much about religion, except when it suited them, to excuse their loose behavior.

He caught a glimpse of the Lord of Starfall. He seemed decent. Perhaps it was right what his Queen once said. Never judge a book by its cover.

As the sails were raised and the voyage started, he prayed the Virgin Mary that he and his men would have a safe journey. Unfortunately, his prayers weren't answered.

One by one his crew went missing until there were only a handful. He attributed it to the violent winds. In the back of his mind however, something told him that something sinister was at work.

In their cabin, Allem asked his brother why not travel light and turn her from the get go instead? "Before Ashara was cremated, you said that if you could go back in time and convince her to marry you, you would. Maybe this is your second chance."

Arthur gave his brother a small smile. "Sometimes you are too good for your own good. It is not that simple. She must remember me, otherwise she will be no different than the others I've turned."

"Worked with me."

"It was different. You weren't a reincarnated spirit." Arthur pointed out. He took out George Boleyn's locket from his pocket. 

"Does she remind you of Rhaenys? Are you thinking 'that is what my bastard daughter my huntress passed off as the Prince's daughter might look like if she had lived?'"

"Do not start." Arthur warned his brother but he kept on going. 

"She is not like the sickly infants and criminals you give your servants. She is an innocent girl and that boy you have locked up in your castle is in love with her."

"If that's correct then he will be patient as I've been." Arthur said, closing the locket. His happiness had been stolen from him, his sister driven to madness after she was wrongly informed of his death, which led to her suicide; why should he care about two vain people who'd lived pampered and sheltered all their lives, and had no notion of sacrifice?

* * *

**_"Dearest Anne and Mary, please tell my father that I will be spending more time in Westeros. I have had a good time and met a lot of interesting people. The Lord of Starfall was generous enough to show me the ropes. It was hard at first but I got to know these people well and I am confident that I can learn more if I travel around the continent. Tell Her Highness that I cannot wait for my educational experience to be over.  
Your dearest brother and loyal son, George Boleyn."_ **

Mary looked at George’s last letter. Her sister-in-law, Kitty, had shown it first to her father in an effort to convince him that he would make a suitable husband to Mary, but the King was no longer interested in Anne. His wandering eye now turned to another woman, one meek and mild whom he called his ‘sweet dove’. “It will get better Mary, trust me. My cousin George is not one to leave precious things behind.” Kitty said, nudging her friend in the shoulder.

George loved her. And it was hard not to see why. Everyone did. People at court spread vile rumors. They whispered that the two were enemies when the opposite was true. Mary admired Kitty because while she had many suitors, she was not as bold or audacious to turn them down, or ‘enjoy them’ (as Kitty put it) the way Kitty did.

Before Edward, Kitty had one of their father’s pages lusting after her. Kitty, who didn’t mind being gawked at, welcomed the attention but turned him down once Edward made his move and declared his love for her in a song he composed just for her.

It was the scandal of Christendom. Everyone said that a prince shouldn’t marry a commoner but who cared what was proper anymore. The Tudors were here because of such unions. For a girl like her though, to marry someone of lower status, things were more difficult.

“It’s not that easy.”

“Ugh, there you go again with complaining. You’d be much happier if you were part of Edward’s production. It is two months late, but we can get you in a suit, dressed as one of the soldiers who’s rescuing the poor maidens from the mad king.”

“Kitty, you are outrageous. My father will never allow it.”

“Why not?” Kitty challenged. “Your mother will. Just tell her ‘mommy, I want to impress His Imperial Highness, Charles V and she will jump shark.”

“It is jump boat and I doubt my mother will be convinced. She knows when I am lying.”

“If she were so smart she’d know about you and George kissing in the orchard of Hever Castle a year ago.” Mary rolled her eyes. “Come on. Live a little! I am going to be big as a whale in two months.”

Mary’s eyes went wide. “You don’t mean?”

Kitty nodded.

“Kitty that is great. We are going to be sisters now! Have you discussed names?” Mary asked, wrapping her arms around Kitty’s neck.

“Not yet and we won’t if you keep choking me.”

“Sorry. I am just so excited. I am going to be an aunt. I am probably more excited than you and Edward are. Have you told my parents?”

“Of course not! Do you think they’d let us put up that play if they knew? Although, I could tell them and then you will have to take my place as the leader of the maidens who gets rescued by her dashing knight.”

“Not a chance.” Mary said. What had Kitty ever saw in her brother? Edward and Harry were handsome, her father was proud of them, but other than that, there wasn’t much to them and Edward was just a second son. Knowing he’d never become King, he lived his life freely. He never neglected his studies but he was never on time for his lessons. He wasn’t the best when it came to jousting and cards, often letting others win and he surrounded himself a bunch of sycophants whose only care was to make him feel better.

In many ways, Edward was like their father, although physically he took after their mother. _And yet my father devotes all his attention to me and Harry._ She wished that it wouldn’t be so. She loved being her father’s pearl, but she didn’t like being watched and being kept indoors like a nun. She wanted to ride freely, hunt, do the things other girls her age did. It was worse when her mother visited her. She would give Mary the standard lecture of how she and her siblings would visit the battlefield, watch their parents give commands to their generals, and inspect the troops as if it was the most normal thing in the world then give a sigh and say how she wished that Mary would marry a man worthy of her who would leave her in charge during his absence so she could prove herself to the world.

It was one thing to be told that you were a lady of the royal blood destined to marry a prince or a king, it was another to be told that you were meant to live up to your mother’s reputation of a great warrior queen. _If she can only see that I am not that great._ Growing up, Mary had never cared about protocol and hadn’t been afraid to challenge her father’s courtiers to a game of chess. During the Field of Cloth and Gold, she was escorted by her godfather to the stage where she met her ‘future husband’, the Duke of Orleans, Henri Philippe. He was so little. She thought he’d be bigger. She asked him if she could kiss him on the lips. Her mother glared at her with those eyes that said ‘are you mad?’ but she didn’t’ care, she proceeded to grab his shoulder and plant a kiss there.  
Needless to say, she got what she bargained for. The little French royal pushed her away, disgusted with her actions. Mary pushed him harder, making him fall on his little ass. His parents were at his side at once, while her mother shook her head at her and her father’s eyes showed nothing but pride.  
Charles was no different. Just because they were related, didn’t mean that he would treat her better. Every King has to have a son, that is what her father taught Harry, and what her cousin would expect of her. One was not enough. There has to be a spare to keep the country secure. Mary didn’t want to be seen as a brood mare. She had female cousins her father could use as bargaining tools; why did he have to resort to her?  
But it wasn’t just her father. Her mother wanted this too. _‘You are so precious.’ ‘There is no one more beautiful than you.’ ‘When he sees you, he will be enchanted.’_ She didn’t want to be enchanting, she wanted to be loved.

“Then,” Kitty said, breaking Mary’s chain of thought, “you have no choice. You will just have to be one of your brother’s soldiers.”

“My mother is not going to approve.”

“Let her complain. Your mother is like a chicken.”

“Now that is too mean, even for you.” Mary said, although she could not help but giggle. Only Kitty would be this bold.

“When she says something, she pretends to be sad and you know what she’s always said ‘tears are a woman’s best weapon’ but a best weapon is getting to her heart which is you outrank the rest of the royal family. You will go on your knees, say that you are worried you won’t make a good Empress and that you have heard some terrible things from me. Your mother will come out of her ‘I am such a cold bitch’ phase and push you  close to her, comfort you, tell you how damaged she is and yadda, yadda, and then you will cry and she will think ‘I have her back in my the palm of my hand’. She will then talk to your father and you will be told you will be in the play.”

“You make everything sound so easy but I will try. I don’t guarantee success.”

“Just listen to me, I have had to listen to hags all my life, not that your mother is one, but she definitely acts like one.”

“Yes, she sure does.” Mary said, hating herself for admitting a harsh truth but what else was there to say about her mother, other than what Kitty had already said?

**~o~**

Just like Kitty promised, Mary’s act moved her mother and she got the part. “Now all you have to do is act the part as the bastard King’s Ser Valiant.”

“Where do you and my brother come up with these names?” Mary asked her as the tailor took her measurements. She was in Kitty’s room, having cakes. Something she wasn’t fond of but she wanted to take advantage of this moment, so she could learn what she was going to say and do so she wouldn’t look like a fool on the day of her father’s reception.

“Sir Thomas More came with it. His daughter brought it to us Harry who brought it to us and the rest is history. There is the helmet.” Kitty said. Like with everything she was excited about, she jumped and cheered. She took the helmet from the tailor’s assistant’s hands and after taking off Mary’s diadem, put it on her. “You look like the warrior goddess Athena.”

Mary groaned. “Enough with this warrior thing. I spent an entire night being told how I will make a good Holy Roman Empress by my parents -which thanks to George’s tardiness, I might have no choice but to be.”

Kitty helped her take it off, then told everyone to wait for them in the solar. “What is really going on?”

“I don’t know. You know as much as I do. I have asked Anne and Mary about George and all they tell me is the same, that they have received vague responses. What if he ran off with some Dornish girl?”

Kitty chuckled. “George would never do that. He loves you. Trust me, I know my cousin. If he promised he’d return, he will. Give him time.”

Mary did but as days turned to weeks and the Emperor’s arrival was approaching, she began to lose hope that he would ever come back.

* * *

"The shrimp has grown." The Duke of Suffolk joked to the Duke of Norfolk.

"It could be worse. If it weren't for her mother's chest, she might have gone the way of her father's new mistress and ended up with a flat chest."

The Duke of Suffolk. "She's your niece. You should be grateful that the King still has an eye for Howard girls and that our saintly prince inherited his taste for them as well." They both laughed. "Who knew that His Highness' eyes would land on her?" Of all people, Charles Brandon thought, laughing harder as said Duke and Duchess walked to the gardens. Behind them was none other than the shrimp herself, Princess Mary Tudor.

She was going to be sixteen in a month but her bosom made her look older. Technically, she'd already been of age to marry when she became twelve. But her mother, god damn her, didn't want her out of her sight unless she was sold to The Chin.

 Every one of the courtiers' sons who formally called her the shrimp, after they heard Charles and Mary's son, along with their cousin, the Prince of Wales, call so, now started calling her the new royal hotness. The Princess ignored them. Like her father, she loved to pretend she was humble. She adopted her grandmother, Elizabeth of York's motto, Humble and Penitent; but when none of the boys were watching, she made fun of their attempts to impress her.

"What do you suppose they are talking? Probably how they will make your son make a fool of himself? Or mine?" Charles said.

Thomas Howard, third Duke of Norfolk chortled. His son, Henry was known for his love of poetry and other liberal arts, but he wasn't the brightest when it came to the game of politics. He saw every woman as something that wasn't off limits, that he could have just because he happened to be Thomas' son, and his cousins' relations to the royal family. Thomas tried to instill in the boy a sense of pride but like most young men today, he was foolish. He thought the world was one big liberal arts college where everything could be solved by some poem or silly song.  
He arranged for him a good match with the De Vere's clan only available daughter, Frances. She was virtuous and handsome enough to melt any man's heart, but this young generation be damned; it asked too much out of life.

"I wouldn't be surprised if she has made our ninnies cry. I say better now then later when they are married and still harboring illusions of winning her heart." Thomas Howard said. "And speak of the devil!" He said when the two boys ran up to the Princess. Like love sick puppies they tried to humor showing her their new poems.

"These are very inventive. They are both good." Princess Mary said trying to keep a straight face. 

"I was thinking about what you said, when you told the director that he should change the lines of the play so you'd have Ser Valiant play a bigger role in rescuing the red wolf. Without her, there would be no competent North King. Those were your exact words."

"I am glad someone agrees with me." That was the only thing she said from their about-to-be short-lived conversation that she actually meant. "My father always hires the best and I am sure that my older brother, His Highness, the Prince of Wales doesn't see anything wrong with his writing, but he doesn't know a thing about history which is what every play writer should know if he is writing about something that actually happened, even if it was a century ago."

"There she goes, lecturing us about the past again." Kitty said, discreetly rolling her eyes. Her husband, Edward, the Duke of York chuckled lightly. Mary turned and glared at them both.

"I am serious." Mary told them. "Any idiot can mash up these characters together, it takes a true master to write something this good that gives the audience something that they can relate to. The Song of Ice and Fire was more than just dragons and Ice Kings and monsters, it was about bastards, harlots, kings and queens fighting each other for control of the Iron Throne. If he doesn't get the story right, what's the point of hearing about it?"

"You are just wonderful." Lord Henry Brandon. "There are not that many women who are outspoken as you."

"Or prudent to know when to speak." Lord Henry Howard said right after him, meaning to say something better that would earn him bigger praise.

_Oh God._ Mary thought. She gave Kitty and her brother a look that said 'get me out of here'. Edward winked at her. He told their cousin and Lord Howard that his father had commissioned a new suit of armor for him for the upcoming tournaments that would be held in honor of the Emperor's visit.

"Thank goodness." Mary said. "Edward is probably going to tell me 'I owe you' afterwards." She told Kitty when the two went back inside.

"He can be annoying at times, but he won't be when I tell him that you will be the one who will play the part of the Sword of the Morning, or whatever his nickname is. I get so lost with ancestors of Westeros people."

"You and me both but don't tell my lady mother. Just memorize the images of their House symbols and you will be fine. Trust me."

"I trust you, but I don't like these Westeros ambassadors see me and if what they say about our newcomer is true, then he is going to be duller to be around with like the others."

"I still can't believe my father agreed him to come. Surprisingly my lady mother didn't protest." She said, the last part more as a comment to herself then to Kitty. "The only good thing that can come out of his visit is finding out about George."

"Are you still thinking about my cousin? Forget about him for a while and have some fun. Who knows? The Lord of Starfall belongs the one of the oldest Houses in Westeros and he has a brother."

"Kitty, no." Mary said, knowing what she was suggesting. How can she even think that she'd sink that low? She was not a fool. She knew what went on in the bedroom, and had known that George had his fill before he met her but he had changed his ways after he promised to work his way up so he'd become worthy of her. It would be a slap in the face if she slept with a man out of wedlock, and then lectured George or her older brother (who, though discreet, remained the same) about morality. Besides, it would break her mother's heart and Mary lived for that.

"Come on. Please Mary, at least promise me you will look at him. It is not like he is going to open his mouth and yell it to the four winds."

"You never know. You said that Henry Mannox would never say that and next thing you know he is knocking on my mother's door begging for an audience, saying that it was more than a 'goodnight kiss'."

"Henry was an idiot. I am glad your father got rid of him. And besides, he was wrong. You are a Princess of England, you deserve every bit of fun as any other woman."

 _If only it were that easy._ Mary thought. Unknown to her, the mystery pair from the last kingdom of Westeros had arrived earlier than expected. Not much was left of the crew except for the captain's log but a few pages were missing.

The King and Queen told Wolsey to tell the other clerics to pray for the souls of the poor crewmen and thank him for the few that survived which included the Lord of Starfall, his brother and a handful of servants.

* * *

 Mary was the first royal to welcome them. She met them on London Bridge. She thought it was a huge honor. Decades ago when her mother came to England, her father had been the first one she met when she made her way to London. He wore matching colors and although her uncle Arthur was alive and well, everyone agreed that her father looked more dashing. Mary smiled to herself. She was filling in for her father. Nobody else but her, which could only mean that in spite of her mother's over protection, she was still his pearl.

"My lords, welcome to London. I am, Her Highness, Princess Mary. My lord father and lady mother are much happy with your safety. Arrangements have been made for you to stay at Hampton Court in the rooms next to His Imperial Highness."

"He is already here?" The Lord of Starfall asked, slightly surprised that His Imperial Highness wasn't the one to be given this 'honor'.

"His Majesties received word that he arrived shortly after you. His ship landed in Dover, he is expected to arrive late at night. The winds calmed down after your ship docked. Thankfully only a few of his servants were injured, no deaths." She turned to the Lord of Starfall's younger brother. He was dressed in 

Arthur could hear her heartbeat, see the veins beneath her flesh. He could also sense her frustration. Amidst her smile, she was doing her best not to seem emotional. _She is thinking about that boy George. How charming._

Allem lectured him that he should proceed with caution, reminding him that she was Catherine's daughter and George's boasts were nothing more than reckless behavior from an idealistic young man. But now that he was face to face with her, his suspicions about her were confirmed. _She_   _is Henry's pearl._    
The King was said to love her and Harry the most. There were some who went further and whispered that it was her, he loved but because of her gender, he couldn't make it seem like he did above his eldest son and heir.

He imagined the various ways he'd hurt Henry. Before their voyage, he focused on the memories he had acquired from George Boleyn when he tasted his blood. The girl was beautiful and she knew it, but didn't use it to her advantage as other highborn women did. Which was good. If there was one thing he figured the King treasured above all, was his pearl's virtue. _A pretty idiot like her will serve me well_. She will be my key to her mother's heart and her father and his enemies' demise. 

"My father has appointed me to watch over your finances. We do things differently here in England, I am sure Lord Rochford informed you before his voyage." Mary said, working hard not to show emotion.

"Yes, he mentioned something of the sort. Tell your lord father, the King, that we thank him for his kindness and we will be there on the morrow to see the play."

Mary smiled then motioned to the royal party to escort them to Hampton. She offered her carriage to the Dayne brothers, Arthur said he'd go in his while his younger brother could go with her.

"Good." Princess Mary said motioning Allem Dayne to come with her. Arthur was happy to be off her sight for a while. Every word of her mouth was enough to make any man go mad.  _She clearly gets her brains from her father._ But he couldn't complain too much. It was a pity that George Boleyn would not be the first one to have a taste of the forbidden fruit. If the boy was still alive by the time he was finished, he might offer him the gift of immortality so he'd finally have her.

He rolled his eyes when she laughed merrily at something Allem said.  _She won't be so merry when I visit her._ London was the perfect place for them. It was clouded and while a few of his kind could come out at day, many didn't last more than an hour. He was the only one who could last an entire day in the sun without turning to ash.

"I am terribly sorry about your crew. My lady mother gave an extra offering before nightfall when she heard that you were on your way." She told Allem once they were inside her carriage.

"You must forgive my brother if he seemed too serious. I used to joke that he was born without a sense of humor."

"Not at all. I think he is a proper gentleman. He will fit in here just fine. But if you do not mind me asking, why choose those properties? Lord Rochford must have mentioned that they have been in decay."

"He did but he still insisted. My brother has always wanted to have properties all around the capitals in Europe. Something about seeing your continent. No offense, but I prefer to be back home. Nothing beats Dorne."

"None taken, Ser Allem." She said, giving him a genuine smile.

Allem smiled back. He felt ashamed for what his brother had in store for this girl.  _She doesn't deserve any of this._ But when it came to his brother, once his mind was made up, nothing could dissuade him.

* * *

Something wasn’t right. Yesterday, when her brother-in-law, the Prince of Wales, welcomed his cousin, the Emperor and naturally Catherine the Arrogant, as Kitty and her friends called her, was there to be the first one to embrace him as a good little homesick Spaniard would, Mary looked tired.

It wasn’t like her to feel tired. That role should belong to Anne. tired. She was pregnant and nobody knew whether the baby was her husband’s or the King’s, but everyone was excited because Anne had always wanted to be a mother and her newly widowed sister, Mary Carey, couldn’t wait to give her children a playmate.

Early in the morning Kitty had gone to check on Mary. She found her mother being worried, telling her daughter that she should stay in bed but Mary insisted not to.

“What happened?” Kitty asked her as they were putting on their costumes.

Mary yawned. “Bad dreams. It is nothing to worry about.” She said giving her friend a reassuring smile but Kitty didn’t believe her. "Ow." Mary suddenly said when one of the servants put a pin on the scarf around her neck. "Be careful! Is not that hard a task for you to do!"

Kitty blinked. Everyone turned to each other. The Princess had never yelled at her servants before.

"Are you sure you are okay?" 

"I am. Susan, I am sorry. I haven't had a good night sleep. Please don't make it more of a big issue than already is. My lady mother is already on my case saying that I should never be on my own again, giving my lord father a hard time." After she said, it clicked on everyone's mind what was the source of her worry. There was a look of understanding on everyone's faces, especially Mary's ladies.

"Mary, is this about what your mother said yesterday night after you invited Ser Allem to your rooms?" Susan White asked.

Kitty grinned. "Well, well, the virgin Princess had some fun last night. No wonder."

"We didn't do anything of the sort." Mary said, not liking where Kitty was going. Honestly, couldn't her friend stop thinking about sex for once?!

Mary's annoyed look didn't deter Kitty. She pressed on. Everyone giggled when she asked, "How was he?"

"Kitty. We did not do anything. I told him I had a copy of Utopia and I lent it along with my copy of Plato's Republic."

Kitty groaned. "My friend, if you are going to scare us like that, do it with something that is worth being scared about. Even your cousin Frances has had more fun than you and she is a stiff."

Mary glared at her. 

"It's the truth. You are never going to know until you try it. If you are worried about getting pregnant, there are ways to prevent it."

"I am not interested, thank you." Mary said with a note of finality.

"Suit yourself but I am only looking out for my best friend." Kitty said.

Allem enjoyed the play the girls starred in. He found Mary's role the more interesting and the hardest one for his brother to watch. She played the 'sword of the morning', their supposed 'ancestor' who had stained his honor when he had helped the evil dragon prince kidnap the wolf maiden to impregnate her with the future King of the North and the seven kingdoms.

After it was over, he whispered to Arthur that it was just a play but Arthur didn't listen. His eyes were centered on the Queen who had made quite an entrance, dressed in her finest. Beautiful long pearl necklaces, a golden snood, decorated with diamonds. She wore a gown of red velvet, gold and silver.

Arthur had not gotten a chance to see her last night, but she was in his mind when he  _visited_ her ungrateful daughter. Arthur gulped as Henry VIII got up and walked up to her, kissing her on the lips. In spite of this expensive display of affection that was meant to humor him and her nephew, the Emperor, it wasn't enough to fool him.

She had the same look in her eyes as she did when she was just Rhaegar's wife, and he had moved his horse past her to Lyanna to ask for her favors instead. Crowning her the queen of love and beauty after the tournament was over, had been even worse. But she never lost her calm. She kept on smiling, despite the wolf maiden's and everyone looks of pity, she maintained her dignity.

The Queen embraced her sons then daughter, whispered something in her ear which Arthur could only guess was to ask her how she felt, then went to her nephew and his party, giving them wider smiles. She then looked at him and Allem. "My lord of Starfall, Ser Dayne, I am glad to see that you are well and I hope that you are enjoying your stay."

"Yes, Your Majesty. My brother and I thank you for the reception we got from your daughter. She has been an excellent hostess."

Catherine smiled at that. "I am happy to hear that. Would you join us outside? The joust is about to begin."

Allem wanted to move his lips and say no but Arthur beat him to it. "We will be delighted. It has been ages since my brother and I have witnessed one of these events."

"My sons will be on the list, so will His Grace, the Duke of Suffolk and other lords. It is probably late but since Dorne is renowned for its fighters, I am sure I can work something up with my husband so you can be among the participants."

"My brother and I have not jousted in ages." Allem said.

Arthur held a hand up. "What my brother means to say is that it has been a while since I have jousted. There was an accident a while ago and since then, I have not put on a suit or armor."

"I am terribly sorry to hear about it. When I was a child I dreamed about seeing the fighters of Dorne, the sun warriors in glory. But there is a time and place for everything. Perhaps, another time." Catherine said, giving them a smile. As they headed outside, they turned back to her when she said, "Shame though. House Dayne is suppose to symbolize the brightest star in the sky. Brighter than the sun, it is whispered. Many were hoping to see the legendary sword Dawn."

"Dawn has been in our family for generations. It is not something that can be used lightly."

"I suppose not. After all, who are we to demand something of our sea-faring guests?" Catherine said with a playful yet courteous tone. She turned her back and went back to her husband, accompanying him and her family, along with her more important guests outside to sit on the royal box.

Allem turned to Arthur. "Don't. She is just playing with you. It is what these royals do. You saw how she looked at us, like we were beneath her."

"We are. She was born a Princess, and is now a Queen. I will make her remember me, and then she won't be playing games with us. Besides, this is not just about making her fall in love with me again, but punishing her husband for what he's done to her."

"Through his daughter." Allem said with disgust. "Mary Tudor is a sweet girl, naive, I will grant you that, but sweet. She is nothing like you imagine. She doesn't deserve any of this."

"Neither did Rhaenys nor our sister, nor Elia or anyone who was taken from us by the Starks, the Targaryens, the Lannisters and just about every dreaded family who were supported by these upstart dynasty's ancestors" Arthur said with venom.

"Is that how you plan to spend eternity? Punish them for the sins of their fathers?" Allem queried.

"I intend to get justice."

Allem tried one more time to reach his brother. "Leave Mary alone."

Arthur gave a cold laugh. "You just spend a few minutes alone with her and you already equate her to the Maiden." 

"I am begging you, not as your conscience but as your brother who has given up everything, my faith, my honor to keep you safe. Do. Not. Do. This. Leave while you still can. You can't bring Rhanys back from the dead. You wanted to see Elia, you saw her. We have no more reason to stay here."

"That is where you are wrong." Arthur said then whispered something in his brother's ear. Allem nearly blanched. "Everyone deserves to be happy. Isn't that what you always said? Our sister died because she fell in love with Ned Stark and the honorable Ned Stark, what did he do once he found out about her pregnancy? He blamed it on his late brother and married his intended bride, that red trout, Catelyn Tully. I defended the seven kingdoms, pledged myself to the Seven, and what did I get in return? A raped and murdered Elia along with our child and Rhaegar's legitimate heir."

"You could expose our entire kind if you do this. We are part of people's sick fantasies. Imagine what will the heads of Europe do when they find the truth through your pet project?" Allem went further, hoping to bait him. "ow do you even know that Catherine will choose you? Elia always put duty first. She is not likely to act different now." But Arthur was too composed to fall into his brother's petty tricks.

"She will. It was Doran who separated us. Since Doran and his descendants are no longer with us, there is nothing for me to fear." Arthur said.

Allem wished he could come up a better argument to stop his brother from going ahead with this madness but it was futile.

Arthur told one of his servants, Cassandra, to get his armor and Dawn out. She'd impress Catherine. The two had played these kinds of games before.

As he got to the courtyard, Cassandra muttered to her companion that it was cloudy. Arthur told Cassandra and Danica to feign sickness in case the sky cleared up. They nodded but couldn't contain their excitement in seeing their master in armor again.

Arthur put on his helmet. He asked for one of the women for their favors. Henry VIII laughed at the Dornish Lord's courtesy. The Emperor turned to his aunt. Catherine gave the Lord of Starfall a small smile. "Granted." She said, wrapping her favors, blue and red ribbons around his lance.

The whole scene seemed reminiscent. Of what, Catherine did not know. But as she watched him defeat nearly all of his opponents except for her sons, she thought of a far away place she had seen in her dreams.

She pushed those doubts away. They were nothing but dreams. She had more problems than she could handle. Her daughter for one. Catherine's nephew had praised Mary for the entire day and Mary barely did anything except rub her neck and blink, as being uneasy.

She is lucky than most girls. Her daughter would be the next Holy Roman Empress, the Queen of Spain. Why did she have to think of that boy? Catherine had heard from one of her ladies that Lord Rochford had sent few letters to his sisters, promising to return to them and 'his beloved princess' once he got to see all of Westeros.  
Mary should forget about him already. Charles was enchanted with her, which was more than she could say about her first marriage. Arthur did nothing but boast about his prowess in the bedroom to cover up for the fact that he had been unable to finish what he had started.  
Just thinking of Arthur, she couldn't help but feel pity for the poor man. He tried his best but after being closeted from the outside world, except for his books, he had no idea what to expect.  
Henry was different. Like his brother, he was a virgin, but he was not timid. He was eager to be her Lancelot and please her in every way but as with every marriage, things got complicated after he found paramours.

Catherine applauded as did the rest of the spectators when the Prince of Wales unseated the Lord of Starfall. The Lord of Starfall took off his helmet and took the young man's hand when he offered it.

"You gave a good match." Harry said. Unlike his brother Edward who took mostly after his mother and Mary who took mostly after her father, the Prince of Wales was a mixture of both his parents. His mother's eyes, dark auburn hair, with his skin tone being somewhere in the middle between olive oil and fair.

"So did you, Your Highness." Arthur told the young man. Harry thanked him then went to his tent so he take off his armor. There were more festivities coming up and he didn't want to miss any of them. These were the sort of things that Edward and his wife, Kitty, were involved but for once, Harry was excited to be at the center of them. It wasn't everyday where he got to shine and how everyone that he was more than just a pampered prince. Besides, with his sister still being hung over Lord Rochford, it gave him time to entertain the Emperor, do the work that was expected of her, showing her mother that he took his duties far more seriously than her prized jewel.

* * *

 Catherine told her ladies she wanted to be alone for her prayers. After she finished, she put her rosary on her drawer and took out her diary. She hadn't written on it since her father died, on the year Mary was born. She began writing on it again.

**_"The funeral of the poor sea captain today was most touching. The service was held at the chapel in Hampton. Henry VIII and I insisted that Wolsey mention the other souls who had been lost at sea. As someone who knows how harsh a mistress the sea can be, I am sympathetic to the Lord of Starfall and his younger brother, Ser Dayne’s plight. Lord Arthur Dayne pretends to be too serious but I know that deep down he is hurting. I have seen that look on many people before. It is the look I wore when I found out that the captain of my ship had died a day after my arrival to England._ **

**_Maria was there at the service. I was angry that Mary could barely stay awake. It is all because of that Boleyn boy. If only the Howards weren’t too crafty and numerous. My daughter deserves better!_ **

**_I pray that she acquires some good sense. My daughter has always been a good daughter. The best a mother can ask for, but sometimes she can be too clueless. She doesn’t know the ways of men as I do._ **

**_For what is it is worth, I am at least thankful to see that her good nature is still intact. When I put my hand on top of hers during the service, reminding her to stay awake, Wolsey asked everyone to pray for their souls and their families -who were also present at the service. That made my daughter much upset. She became restless and uneasy. She has always been a gentle soul, worrying about others than herself._ **

**_She asked me if I thought she would be able to perform on the play. I told her ‘Of course’. A smile from me was enough to lift her spirits. To my misfortune she became her earlier self again when she sat next to the Emperor during the joust. She seemed edgy, more restless than before. I whispered in her ear to calm herself down but she whispered back to me in a hostile tone that I had never heard from her before, to leave her be and focus on Harry and Edward instead._ **

**_I think it will be best for her to remain in bed the next few days. At least until she is back to her old self. Once she is told of the great wonders that await her in Spain, she will smile and be the Princess we are all used to seeing.”_ **

Catherine stopped. There was something she was unsure whether to write about or not. It was something that she thought she had imagined it but now as she thought back to it, she couldn’t resist. Nobody knew about this diary but her and Maria. So there was no danger in writing the following:

 ** _“The night that Mary welcomed our unfortunate guests, I was on my way to tell her good night when I saw the younger of the Dayne brothers come out of her bedroom, fully clothed as she. Her servants had been dismissed. Nothing else was on them except that on Ser Allem Dayne’s hands were two books which I immediately recognized as her copies of Sir Thomas More’s celebrated work, Utopia, and her favorite of Plato’s writings, the Republic. I was going to tell Mary how stupid she was. She was probably not going to get them back but I refrained myself from doing so when I felt something familiar._ ** **_It was a scent my nostrils recognized at once. They came from a rare flower that only grew in darkness, one that shouldn’t even exist. But that is impossible.  
I have only read about this flower, never seen and much less smell it and yet I somehow knew about it._ ** **_It was then that I turned my eyes to the window where I realized that the skies had cleared._ **

**_There was a bright full moon, the heavy black clouds drew farther away. I returned my attention to Mary’s chambers’ and walked towards them when I felt a cool breeze and saw a dark shadow walked past me. I crossed myself. I felt like a child in one of my older sister Juana’s horror tales. She would always tell me and Maria these stories to scare us and I would always yell back, telling her that she was foolish for trying to scare two princess who were tougher than her._ **

**_As I advanced, the air got colder. The windows were closed, yet it felt like I was outside. I walked into Mary's chambers and opened her bedchamber door. And that is when I saw it again. The same shadow, except now I could make it out better in spite of the darkness. It was a man. When I got closer I could see him bending over Mary who was half-awakened, and half-reclined._ **  
**_It whispered something unfamiliar in her ear and Mary responded with a moan and threw her head back, as it got closer. I screamed Mary’s name and then the figure raised its head and I saw a familiar face. I was struck by that scent again, but when its eyes flashed red, I took a step back._ **

**_Why am I remembering it all now? I am not one to fall for folklore tales but the bible talks about Satan sending his demons to tempt mankind. He'd always pick good souls, the ones who were closest to God. It made sense he would choose my daughter but the more I think about it, the more I laugh at how ridiculous this whole thing sounds. If something evil had taken place my daughter would have been the first to tell everyone. She hardly keeps anything to herself, except for George and even there, she proved to be a poor liar._ **

**_Again, it is nothing. Mary has always been a sensitive child and now that she is a young woman with many young admirers, it is natural that for someone as innocent as her, she is unsure how to react. It is my hope that her melancholy does not last. Charles is not the romantic type but he has visited many places and since my daughter has always been an avid reader, she will be a good match for him._**

**_I am glad I was able to wake her and call on her maids to dress her in finest. The Emperor is not the kind of man who likes to wait. I was hoping that he'd reconsider our ambassador's offer and wait until the morrow but, as I've said, he doesn't like to be kept and he was anxious to see his future bride.  
When Mary was a child people thought she'd never grow up. In less than a month she'd be legally a woman, which Charles could not wait. I have never seen him this eager to do anything. I pray that Wolsey and the others won't sabotage this alliance by accepting French money and convincing Henry to turn to France again."_ **

Catherine signed her diary the same way she always did so if Wolsey every found it, or worse, his mistress’ heretic friends, they’d think it was from someone whose name and last name started with ** _‘E’_ ** and **_‘M’_**.

Putting her diary back in her drawer, she put on her cap, blew out the candles and went to sleep.


	3. Hidden and Patient

_"I could take every fucking word she said_  
_and throw it in her face_  
_and would she even care?_  
_I still remember when she looked at me_  
_a frown upon her face_  
_trying to be sincere_  
_I gather all those little things she said_  
_kept them close to me_  
_trying to make this real_  
_this cloud will always hover over me_  
_leaving you today because now I say_  
_you suffocate!"_  
**~Suffocate by Cold**

 _"Those that can't do. Teach."_ **_  
~Iljicamina in From Dusk Till Dawn (2016)_ **

Catherine was struggling to finish her last prayer. Three nights and her daughter’s night terrors persisted. She must get this from Henry. His family were a nice bunch. There were rumors that his mother had slept with one King and then had the other one wrapped around her little finger so he’d become her puppet.

What a good family did God choose for me? She wasn’t one to question God’s will, but she wasn’t afraid to question’s men’s. They were fickle creatures, Kings especially. She had learned from her mother. She was the best actress in Christendom. When she found about her father’s new paramours, she didn’t threw a public fit. She kept that for when they were alone.

Catherine walked in on one of their many fights. And there were so many, she had lost count. Her father was thrown off the bed and her mother told him to go back to his whore if he was going to give his mother’s jewels to them. _“Calm down woman!”_

_"Woman? You dare call me woman?! I am your wife and when you stay in my kingdom, I am your sovereign!” She screamed, grabbing her mirror and throwing it across the room._

Catherine ran back to her chambers. Her older sister Maria was staying with her on Catherine’s insistence. She started having bad dreams. A woman whose hair was black and looked much like her, except she was a grown up and when she kissed this man, her hair turned a different color. She didn’t dream of telling her mother this because she would just get angry with her and tell her to pray harder, to rid herself of ‘unfulfilled desires.’ At the time Catherine was too small to know what that meant.

She woke Maria and told her what she’d seen. Maria shrugged and said it was nothing out of the ordinary. _“They do it all the time Catalina. You weren’t here when she nearly asked her soldiers to divide the bed in half. Father was so mad that he told his soldiers to burn her dresses.”_

_“Why do married people do that? Aren’t they supposed to be … you know, in love?”_

_“They are but that doesn’t mean they are going to behave when no one is looking.”_ Maria told her then added, _“Let them be. By the morrow they will be back to their loving selves. He will apologize in the way of a poem and she will do the same.”_

Catherine became frightened. What if her marriage to Arthur was like that? It was her destiny to be Queen of England. God had deemed it so. He had shined his light on her and filled her womb with not two, but three beautiful children. But there were times, like tonight, when she asked the Lord if this was truly what he wanted from her?

He was supposed to smile on his children. The almighty wanted everyone to live by his rules and be happy. Catherine struggled to be a good Christian. She wanted to be. But Henry wasn’t making it easier. He wasn’t a domineering selfish proud boy like his brother, but he no longer loved her. How could she call what they had a union of equals when they were no longer equals?

A tear fell off her eye as she remembered a song she had made just for him. He sang it for her when they lay together for the first time.

_“You are the sun, and the air …_

_You are my sun shine, the star that fell from the sky to Earth_

_The dawn that comes after the night grows darker_

_You are my salvation.”_

She chuckled. She still remembered the lyrics. Henry had forgotten them. He stopped singing it after Mary turned ten and his eye fixated on his former mistress’ younger sister, Anne. _Now she is getting a taste of what her sister felt._ Henry’s eye had wandered yet again and surprise! It was to another lady-in-waiting.

 _At least my father kept them hidden, visiting them in their houses instead of keeping them in my service._ Anne’s betrayal hurt, Jane’s even more.

The Seymours boasted to be a good Catholic, loyal family but they turned out to be just the same. There was no one in England she could trust. She told her nephew it was so lonely here and he jestingly said that for her, he’d stay an entire year and even marry Mary in England.

Catherine wiped her tear. A foreigner was more a son to her than her own sons. There was nothing of her native land in them. They were proud English men, Edward more so. Mary could have gotten better by now if that stupid Howard girl didn’t keep filling her head with illusions of George coming back to wed her.

Even if that were true, what future could she have with that boy?

She put on her necklace with the golden crucifix on. Instead of three falling pearls, there were three stars. She had always been fascinated with the night skies. Sir Thomas More shared her fascination. Henry did too, in the beginning, then he moved to more earthly matters. She and Henry’s friend still talked about the planets, what life might be out there.  
She seldom looked at the night sky. When she did, she couldn’t help but think of falling stars and feel sad.

 _They are all hens._ Catherine chuckled thinking back to when she birthed Mary. She had called her ladies obsessed, paranoid mother hens and joked with Maria that if it weren’t for their cocks they’d be more insufferable.

An image came to her. A young woman with her hair, skin color and physique, except for her eyes which were dark brown. She chased a young man across ancient gardens her family had built since before the time the time of Aegon the Conqueror. Like in Catherine’s favorite myth of the headstrong Atlanta, she made him a bet. If he outrun he’d get to marry her, if he didn’t, then she’d make her his slave. Despite him winning, the opposite of what they agreed on, came to pass. She married a handsome prince and to keep her safe, he became his slave and by extension, hers as well.

“Forgive me.” Catherine whispered. Her voice sounded foreign to her. She bristled when she heard what her lover said. _“I swore that I’d protect but what you are asking me to betray my vows!”_

 _Plead with him, imbecile!_ Catherine cried mentally to her double but she couldn’t reach her. Deep down, her heart was screaming to her to stop. The past cannot be changed.

_“It’s not just you I’d be putting in danger. My family’s honor is also at stake. I have already risked too much by biting my tongue when you asked me to be Rhaenys’ godfather.”_

_“I am not asking you to betray your vows, Arthur. You swore you’d protect the King and the realm. Aerys is sick. He’ll only get worse. Doran doesn’t want to see it. Always the peacemaker.” She scoffed. “If Oberyn hadn’t been there, he would have dropped Rhaenys.”_

_“The more reason why we must be cautious.” He sighed._

_“Rhaegar will never suspect you. He trusts you, you are his best friend.”_

_“It doesn’t make it more right.” He placed a soft kiss on her lips. Tender, short. It was a sign of farewell. She took it badly as any woman who had been raised a princess would. He ignored her protests, her accusations of cowardice but he stopped and turned when she told him that if she was cast aside for some upstart, it would all be on him._

The images faded. She was back in her chambers, staring at a painting she had requested from her nephew. It was a tale of loss and renewal. Charles V had presented it to her on the second day since his arrival. He said that only she could ask for such a venture. He asked her before the entire court what she’d name it. She pretended to think long and hard and after a what seemed a long pause, she answered, earning applause from courtiers and foreign guests.

** The Fallen Star that brings the Dawn **

Mary, who was present, stopped shifting uncomfortably in her seat and asked Catherine where she had come up with such a name. Catherine told her daughter it was a combination of the stories she had read from her mother’s library, back in Spain.

Her attention returned to the courtiers below. She didn’t miss Lord Dayne and his brother Allem’s bewildered looks. Thinking back to that moment, she realized it wasn’t bewilderment but awareness. The painful kind that hits you when you least expect it, forcing you to go back into the darkest corners of your mind. The corners were abandoned, filled with cobwebs and dust. You don’t want to be there but you are there anyways. All other doors are closed except one. You must open it, otherwise you can’t function.

Something in what she said, forced the Dayne brothers into their minds’ darkest corners. Especially Lord Arthur. He was the one who looked more distraught. She and he had made small conversation, teasing each other about being strangers in a strange land, but that day, he was silent.

What was he hiding? Did she want to know? Would she like the answer? She was privy to many secrets. The English court was a place of secrets, most of which everyone pretended not to know and only let out when there was something for them to gain, or when the party they were blackmailing was no longer cooperating.

Catherine hardly looked at herself in the mirror. She was not as physically present when they dressed her and arranged her hair as when she was younger but after reminiscing about yesterday and having those strange images come up again, she rose and went to her vanity.

 ** _You are still beautiful_** **.** A familiar voice said. Something, the way he said it, brought feelings of hope and excitement. Feelings she seldom felt. When she married Henry, she thought the two of them would be like her parents. There would be fights, but they’d never stop being equals.

So many things had gone wrong. Everything seemed out of place and yet, she felt at ease after she heard that voice, its echo ending her sorrows for at least one night.

* * *

Mary had asked Kitty about something she said. She confessed to Edward that it was impossible for her to have heard it. “I said it in my bedchamber which is three rooms away. She says she can hear what people say behind closed doors and she is not accepting help from Doctor Butts. And Doctor Linacre is too sick to put up with her shrieks.”

“She doesn’t seem too bad. When she was ten she stole father’s favorite horse. She yelled at Harry for telling in on her and called him ‘traitor’. She didn’t shut up for a week. Have you heard news from George, yet?”

“Yes, he says the same thing. Pardon my French, but in the name of all that is holy, my cousin better come here so Mary is taken out of this bloody stupor!”

Edward raised his hands as if in a pleading gesture. When his wife got angry, she became scary and since her pregnancy was announced, a day after the Emperor’s arrival, he was beside himself with worry. Kitty was strong, she could handle a pregnancy. He wasn’t sure he could. “What are you waiting for? Your cousin Anne is going into confinement next week. Ask her before she goes what is going on and to write to George to come here immediately.”

“I honestly don’t know what is up with him.” Kitty cried. “He has been gone for two weeks. No one can last traveling this long. And don’t come up with the tale of Henry VII because that is different.”

“I wasn’t going to say anything. Look, you love your cousin, you love my sister; you are trying to do what is best for our families but maybe it is time to let go.”

“Don’t you think I haven’t considered that? Mary doesn’t want to hear me. She says George might still come.” She groaned. “She’s just becoming too irritable. I can barely be around her anymore without feeling like I am about to explode. She yells at the doctors and tells everyone to get out unless they bring her favorite shoes, her favorite drink, or meal and His Imperial Highness isn’t helping matters with just staring at her, like she is some animal in the royal menagerie.”

“The Emperor doesn’t care about Mary’s distress as long as she remains healthy. Philip is just four years old and children die every day.”

“Do not speak of death. Just don’t.” Edward didn’t say any more. He was worried about his sister too. Where was the girl who was gentle but also brave and playful? It was like living with somebody who looked like Mary, talked like Mary but who wasn’t his little sister.

He talked about this with Harry. Harry was as stubborn as their mother. He didn’t want to admit he had anything in common with her, but he did. Like her, she didn’t miss a thing. With their father’s intellect and eye for anything exotic, it made him a good observer. Edward asked him what he thought.

Harry had been enjoying a debate with Sir Thomas More’s eldest daughter’s husband, his adopted daughter, and the new archbishop of Canterbury when Edward asked him to speak with him in private.

“You surely must sense something is out of place.” Edward went on.

“I don’t put my trust in instincts, only on facts and the facts lead me to the conclusion that something out extraordinary is happening to our sister.”

“Just once, I’d like you to give me a straight answer.” Edward said with annoyance.

“What do you want me to say? Our sister is out of her bloody mind? Perhaps you want me to tell a joke or some obscenity like most of your friends do instead.”

Before Edward could give him one of his snappy comebacks, he added, “You are not the only one who’s worried about our little sister. But I prefer to know what we are up against before I come up with a solution.” He looked down at the chess game he never got to play, that he promised Thomas Cranmer. “Mary used to pretend she was the king. I told her ‘queens can move everywhere, kings just sit and wait for their mistress to eat their enemies.’” Anger warred in his chest. Few people could control emotions the way he could. He chose his anger to be known to Edward, to show him how serious he was and hopefully get him to think. “She is now the king and we the queen, knights, towers and bishops who must protect her from evil forces.” He tossed the white king figure to his brother who caught it.  
“I suppose you haven’t heard of ‘The Vampire’, a work of John Beaumont?” When his brother didn’t answer, he added, “I guessed not. He is an enigmatic author. Nobody knows who he is except his supposed partner in crime, Eustace Chapuys.”

“The Imperial Ambassador?” Edward asked with a raised eyebrow. What did the Savoyard working for the Emperor have to do with this?

Seeing his tired look, Harry said, “You probably aren’t aware that many have speculated that the mysterious author’s true identity is Cornelius Agrippa.”

“And I thought Kitty’s ladies were a special kind of interesting people.”

“This is not about a fake magician, claiming he will predict when the next plague is going to be. I am talking about a man who wrote about his first encounter with the undead.” He rose and went to take out a book from his shelf. He handed it to Edward. “You will find a lot of useful information there.”

“I am right here. You can just tell me the short version. I am not into strange things like you.”

“Right, you prefer to be thought as everyone’s best friend. Before you say another wise-arse comment, at least read the first page.”

Edward did and blinked. He looked at Harry. “You are kidding me, right? How can this man have known about Mary’s condition?”

“Because he’s seen these things before. Right after the Night’s King invaded Westeros, the first Targaryen monarch since the mad King’s demise instituted a policy that would put to death everyone having similar symptoms. It wasn’t long before one of the members of the Small Council received reports of a mysterious plague ravaging Dorne. ‘It can’t be stop, send help immediately’. Were his exact words. Nobody heard of him after that. Soldiers were sent, they came up with nothing. Just folk tales. People were still reeling from grain shortage and the loss of their homes, so they were prone to all kinds of paranoia. One person however took this seriously and was committed to find what went in her principality. Fearing she’d suffer the same fate, Arianne Martell, the Princess of Dorne, made a special will where she named one of her bastard cousins her heir. It was a wise move as she didn’t live to see another dead. The official story is that she was poisoned by the Tyrell matriarch, Olenna although Mr. Agrippa believes that she was given a dose of vampire blood.”

“That doesn’t sound like the stories I know about vampires.”

“Because they are lies. People have been telling stories about the undead for years to make sense of natural occurrences. This time, it turned out to be right. It’s a plague. Like every plague it needs a host to ensure it survival. If its transmitted willingly by the host, the carrier survives. He or she must find blood or else its body will consume itself and deteriorate. It’s like the black death. People who survived it were able to pass on their strength to their descendants. If you weren’t bitten by one of these things, your body shuts down.”

“Are you serious?” Edward chuckled. “I know you’ve always been hungry for knowledge but reading crackpot theories from a magician? Does Cranmer and Cromwell know that you read this stuff? Does father?”

“Father is busy reading reports Dr. Butts sends him of Lady Percy’s pregnancy, planning our sister’s majestic wedding and of course, keeping his new mistress interested.” Harry said, being blunt as usual.  
“You must have something was off about her when Kitty started complaining about her. When was the last time they fought? Never. All of a sudden, she is the one driving Kitty crazy, being rude to her servants, tired of going hunting. Trust me, I do not want to believe this either but all the signs point to one inevitable conclusion.”

“It is like we are trapped in a nightmare. Why Mary though? In ever vampire tale they always go after the loose ones, the libertines, the unwanted. Mary is … good!”

“Maybe that is what attracted them. It is written in the bible that when Jesus wandered the desert for forty days he encountered the devil. He offered him everything a man’s heart could want but Jesus turned him down. Every time, he kept coming back, with better offer and more enticements until the devil finally gave up. These things however, don’t give up. Once they see something, they are determined to have it.”

“You think there is more than one?” Edward put the book aside and rubbed his forehead. “Alright, I’m still not receptive to this cock and bull theory but assuming you are right, how do we stop it?”

“That, I do not know.” Harry said, showing frustration in admitting defeat. “The last attack documented, according to that book was in 1485 a month after our grandfather won his crown.”

“Who was the victim?”

“Rhys ap Thomas.”

“Sir Gruffydd app Rhys’ father? I thought he died of a cold.”

“That is the official story but Agrippa begs to differ. Henry meant him to be his representative on Wales, and handle it after he was officially crowned King of England but on his way there he was attacked. Two days later he was found by a pair of local farmers who said he had two small holes on his neck. There was no blood on the body.”

“None of this makes any sense. You said Mary’s goodness could have attracted them but then you go on and say they kill someone who -as I’ve heard from Sir Gruffydd’s son- was the complete opposite. A brute and a mad man.”

“Trust me, I know it sounds crazy but what other explanation is there? Doctors say it is melancholy, father doesn’t care, mother thinks she is overreacting and the Emperor cares even less because all he cares about is that her body works so she can give him more children.” Harry said. He wanted to punch the Emperor in the face when the two of them practiced sword fighting. He had more fun practicing with his friends who were far more skilled at sword fighting than his maternal cousin. The Emperor queried about his sister’s virtue. If looks could kill, Charles Habsburg would be dead on the spot.  
His sister was the most virtuous person he knew. Just because she wasn’t like his saintly aunt, Harry’s mother, didn’t mean she wasn’t a good person. Mary was a better person than his mother was -or ever hoped to be. Whereas his mother was judgmental, Mary wasn’t. She always gave people second chances. Harry thought it was a weakness at first, but seeing how many friends she made over the years, he changed his opinion. _If the Emperor and half the people in Christendom weren’t so blind, they’d know that the one who has inherited my mother’s ‘good traits’ is me._ When he was little, it was easy to impress his mother. She was her golden boy. The eldest one. The one everyone pampered until Mary was born and she became distant. It didn’t help that his first time had been when he was fourteen and with one of his mother’s ladies-in-waiting. Because she was the queen and Harry’s fling didn’t happen to sleep with the King, she could do whatever she wanted. To show Harry that she was disappointed, she cast her out and convinced his father to send him back to Wales. _  
“You are a bad influence on your sister.”_ Were her last words before she ordered his groom to pack his things and him, to get out of Hampton before things got worse. When he got back, things had calmed down a bit. His father was with the notorious Boleyn whore, Mary Carey, so his mother didn’t have time for Harry. He was going to tell his parents to send him back to Ludlow when Mary entered his chambers. She gave him a copy of Sir Thomas More’s “Utopia”. _“I have another one. I told Sir Thomas I lost mine so he arranged for another to be sent to me. This one is special. It is signed by him and his eldest daughter.”_ She told him. There wasn’t a bone of malice in her body. And he was certain their mother had said horrible things about him to her, but by the looks of it, she didn’t believe any of it.  
His envy for her didn’t die, but unlike before, he no longer felt angry at her.  
Seeing his sister fall under this mysterious vampire spell made him feel powerless. _What good is having all the knowledge in the world if you can’t protect the people you love?_

Seeing Harry’s expression, Edward’s voice softened. “We will find a cure. There has to be a way, isn’t that what Mary’s school teacher told us, there is always a way? We just have to find this Agrippa and ask him if he knows something.”

“Sadly, we can’t. Cornelius Agrippa died two months ago.”

“Then we go to Eustace Chapuys.”

“I doubt he will want to help us. The two were good friends but they became distant after Cornelius Agrippa started writing outlandish tales.”

“We can’t just cross our arms. There has to be something, if not here, then in other books.”

“I am afraid there isn’t.” Harry said, then turned to the window. His mother was in the gardens with her ladies and happened to cross paths with the Lord of Starfall. _I bet she is going to tell him of how busy she’s been, giving thanks to God for granting her daughter ‘this wonderful opportunity’ to be married to the Emperor._ Hearing their high pitch laughter was too unbearable.

“You are worse than Henry Howard when he hears Mary and Kitty laughing.” Edward said. He rose and sat in the vacant chair facing Harry. “I can’t begin to understand why the Arthur Dayne finds her amusing. Our mother can barely entertain someone without saying some sob story of how good she is, and how every Humanist praises her.”

“Some people have weird tastes. Thomas More for one finds her interesting.”

“I think that is because Thomas More still fancies her.” Harry shot him a dirty look. “What? Am I not allowed to be blunt as you are, dear brother?”

“I have a passion for the truth, you have a passion for gossip.”

“Some gossip tends to be true. The twelve properties of a lover?” Edward chuckled. Harry could not help but chuckle either, being thankful that they had found some humor in their dire predicament. “The last poem is a shot out to our mother.”

“It is a shame he never acted on his passions. Our mother would be easier to handle.”

Edward agreed then a thought came to him. He took out his pocket mirror. “Maybe our mother is the bloodsucker.”

“Jesus Christ, Edward, put that thing down. You look like a fool carrying that around.” Like Narcissus, he thought, the vain man from classical mythology who was so beautiful that he fell in love with himself and thus, would always carry a mirror.

“At least I am not like the King of France who needs constant reassuring.” Edward retorted. “Maybe you are the vampire.” He said joking putting the mirror in his brother’s face. The sunlight bounced right off it to Harry.

“Dear God, Edward will you take it off? You are going to leave me blind!” Harry said covering his face.

Edward chortled. “Not so tough now eh, my lord of Wales?”

“Edward I swear if you start making your bad jokes again, I am going to throw you off this room.”

“You wouldn’t. You love me. Admit it.”

Harry gritted his teeth. “I mean it, Edward. That thing is going to make me go blind now take it off or I will smash it to pieces.

Edward put it down. “You are no fun.” Changing subjects, he asked him about his intended union with the lady of Cleves. “Are you really going to go forward with that? They say she is no Princess Royale.”

“Would you have me marry Mary of Guise then so the Guises can make a little France out of England?”

“All I am saying is that you could do better.” Edward said. Turning back to the window when he heard their mother’s laugh again. “I am going to try my little theory.”

“If it is not in the book then what makes you think your little theory will work.”

“Not all the answers are found in books, brother. Besides, I didn’t say it would but it doesn’t make it any less fun. And just imagine, our mother the bloodsucker. Or bloodcucker.”

“That is not even a word.”

Edward scowled. If his brother was truly going to marry the Duke of Cleves’ daughter, he felt sorry for the poor woman. _If I were a woman, I would kill myself living with someone so dull like Harry._ His brother had his moments, but most of the time he took things **too** seriously.

Edward blinked and moved his chair closer to the window. “Huh.”

“What is it? Our mother grew another head?”

“No, it’s just … would you come and see this to make sure I am not going crazy?”

“Why don’t you give me the mirror instead. We are not that far apart.” Harry said, smiling at him, knowing he was going to regret it; but what the hell. Between getting his marriage arranged and trying to handle this situation with Mary, he could use a little fun.

Edward slide it to him. “Hold it our mother and look at it. Just look.”

Harry did as Edward instructed him and to his horror, he saw that it didn’t reflect the Lord of Starfall.

“Well, I’ll be damned.” Harry muttered putting the mirror down when Arthur looked up at them before returning his gaze at their mother.

* * *

 "Something wrong, Lord Dayne?" Catherine asked her guest.

"Not at all." He said, giving a mild smile. 

It is such a shame, Catherine thought. She would have loved to see him smile. So far there had been a few occasions where he gave what she believed was a genuine smile but on those occasions, Henry had not been present at the high table; dancing instead with his new whore, Jane Seymour or being entertained by her brothers. That left time for her and Lord Arthur to talk. He looks more presentable when he smiles.

He had a regal bearing but that seriousness made him look so unwelcoming. A man like him should smile more often. She thought about asking his brother what had happened to him that could have made him so serious but in the end, she decided not to.

Whatever ailed this man, it was none of her business. If she wanted to know, she'd have to wait until he opened up on his own.

"I was admiring the sun rise. It is so rare to see the sun like this."

"England can be difficult to adapt but if you decide to stay longer as I suspect you intend to as you've been asking my husband permission to buy one of the Inns that went out of business in London, you will find it most charming."

He gave an open smile. Her ladies blushed so did Catherine. "There is something I'd like you to see. You are from Dorne so you might find my collection of chronicles on the sun princes and princesses something to your liking. I have a few questions though, if you do not mind."

"I do not. I think that is why Your Majesty wants me instead of my talkative brother." Arthur cleverly pointed out.

He was surprised to find Catherine's personal library in her chambers. Most royals kept only their favorite books but Catherine had more than just a few. "It is quite the collection isn't it?" She asked proudly and not waiting for his answer, she took out her favorite volumes.

"These are written by Maester Marwyn and these by Maester Samwell. I have tried to learn High Valyrian but I find it difficult." She admitted. "Luckily I have you. Please sit." He sat next to her. As usual, they weren't alone. The queen's ladies were in the other room while with them was Maria, her loyal friend.

"This, what does it say? The images tell me it is about war but that is as far as I can tell."

Arthur took it. He smirked. He remembered this scene very well. Although not present, he heard about it and thanks to a deserter who escaped after the war was over, he got to see it when he bit him.

"It tells the last battle of the song of ice and fire. It is a popular tale in Westeros. Seven Kingdoms at war, seven families vying for power. In the end none of them were a match for the army of the dead and the plague that was brought over by one of the dragon queen's soldiers until three great heroes rose from the dead and blessed by the gods, vanquished evil." Arthur said, then proceeded to read what it said. "The last lines refer to the beauty of war as one who is not afraid to engage in it for it brings honor and peace."

"Since when is war romantic?" Catherine asked, disappointed that someone could have written something so stupid.

"Anyone who thinks it's so easy to win a war by force has actually never been responsible for fighting one. Maesters are masters of manipulation. It is why they spend years of training, concocting new ways to lie to people and appease their lords."

"You don't have a high opinion of them."

"I do not , Your Majesty. They write fabulous tales, that are meant to make their masters look good and their rivals as the opposite. Had the mad queen kept herself in power, what would the history books say of her? A woman who was blessed by the grace of the Seven and kept herself in power through her good wit."

"And that would be wrong, why? God chooses who wins and who loses. Those who aren't afraid, God blesses them, those who are, are destined to be another footnote."

"Pardon me, Your Majesty but it is not always so easy."

"And how would you know that, Lord Dayne when you have never been witness to these horrors?" Catherine asked pointedly. "I have. I have seen my mother at the head of her armies before blessing my father and telling my siblings that as children of Aragon and Castile, we shouldn't think ourselves higher than the men who risk their lives every day to ensure that Christianity is safeguarded from its enemies. I was present when my parents' armies nearly lost. My mother had one of my father's mistresses staying with us. She pissed on herself when she heard Boabdil's men give out their battle cry. My mother told her 'what did you think was going to happen? You wish to help, do the good lord's work? Act with honor. God helps those who are humble in the face of defeat and strong when the enemy is at the door.' She then pointed to her captain's men. If the worse came to pass, we would die in the name of god so we wouldn't be sold as concubines."

Arthur said nothing. Elia had a sweet wit but when she wanted to make a point, she wasn't afraid to make it, even if she came across as cruel. _"The gods help the strong ones, Arthur."_

"We won because of my parents' strength. I helped my husband keep this country safe through my faith."

"I did not say you did not but wars are more than just bravery and will power, they are about strategy. Those with the best strategy or luck wins."

"So every battle won is an accident?" 

"If you wish me to be blunt, yes."

Catherine gave a dry chuckle. "You need to socialize more, my lord. Most Queens want to be spoiled and have their guest nod their handsome heads at every word they said."

"A true guest is the one who respects his host. Honesty for me has always been the best form of courtesy and I am not about to change my mind. I suspect Your Majesty would not like me if I did."

"Well put, my lord but you are still wrong." She said then pushed a book to him. "Now translate this one. It is on the last ten years of Dorne, it shouldn't be a hard task for you."

Arthur did as she asked him. While her ladies continued to play cards outside, Maria looked with interest at the two going back and forth. It had been years since she had seen Catalina this invested or genuinely happy.

* * *

Two days after his conversation with Edward, Harry decided to visit their sister. He found her entertaining Ser Allem Dayne and the Emperor. Again, he found himself angry at the Emperor whose eyes were only focused on his sister from the waist up.

There was none of his usual arrogance towards Harry, pretending he cared about his opinion, while criticizing his father’s palaces which in his view were inferior to the many he held in Spain and abroad.

Ser Allem and everyone else, except for his sister who was seated in her favorite armchair, next to the Virginals, rose and bowed their heads. Given that he was lower in status than the crown prince and Emperor, Ser Allem bowed the lowest.

“Your Highness.” He said along with the Emperor.

“Ser Dayne, cousin, sister. I am happy to see you are back to your old self. Dr. Linacre’s potion has done its work.”

“Dr. Linacre is too old to be doing anything except making bad tasting potions.” Mary said and at this the Emperor smiled. He also thought the humanist doctor was far too old. “He should have retired a long time ago.” Charles Habsburg said, humoring her.

“My step-grandmother, the Vicereine of Valencia, had a very old doctor. She retired him a year ago after he gave her the wrong diagnosis.”

“How is her daughter?” Harry asked, uncaring whether his remarks offended his dear imperial cousin.

“She is rather well. She has two.” Charles politely reminded his cousin. If it weren't for royal decorum, he'd tell his so called royal cousin to fuck off. _He should feel grateful that I've accepted his father's offer to marry his sister._ He'd laughed when he was told by Eustace that she had matured into a sophisticated young woman. _The dwarf?_ He thought at the time, but when he was given a miniature copy of a larger portrait that had been done of her a year ago, he realized the Savoyard was right. Isabella Aviz would remain his beloved wife. No one would substitute the special place she had in his heart, but Spain and the Empire needed another son in case something were to happen to Felipito and because of her beauty and youth, Mary made for the perfect candidate.  
The only thing he disliked her precocious attitude. _I will make sure she becomes a true lady when she reaches Spain_. Spain was tired of its women rulers. The last one was still alive and barking mad. He needed her to be the model of chastity and virtue, devoted to only two men, the Lord and him. If rumors of her condition was true and it didn't improve by the time they got to Spain, he'd deal with her accordingly. As long as she proved herself fertile like her mother, her mental health mattered very little to him.

“Yes, one is yours.” Harry said, in a matter of way.

Ser Allem gave a side-eye glanced to His Highness. Was it him or were all the Tudors these crazy? It was no wonder why his brother still thought the whole lot were like their ancestor.  
They certainly care very little about consequences.

“And your point is?” Charles Habsburg asked his cousin.

“Nothing except that I do not imagine how much work my sister will have on her plate. Not only will she be looking after your legal offspring but also your bastards.”

“I would watch out who you call bastard when the Tudors adescend from a bastard line that were it not for the Plantagenet name dying out and the last legal heir being a woman, no one would have taken the first Tudor King’s so called claim seriously.”

“He’s got you there, Harry.” Mary said. She moved her armchair closer to the sofa where Charles and Allem were. “But I think my brother has a point. His Imperial Highness won’t expect me to look after all his six offspring? I love children but with my father saying that I am becoming too fragile, I am afraid I will disappoint you if I am met with these responsibilities. I am only a woman, after all.”

“You are my cousin and a descendant of Isabella and Ferdinand. If your lady mother believes you are capable then my lady Princess will be capable. My eldest child is a little younger than you so you won’t have any problem there. Philip, Maria and Isabel however will get to spend a lot of time with you. Philip is a precocious child. He is diligent in his studies. His tutors tell me he’s anxious to meet you and have a new brother.”

“Then it will be my pleasure to give him one.” Mary smiled.

She didn’t look at her brother while she said this. His sister would always turn to him after she finished a sentence, seeking his approval. _How much she’s changed._ She was still Mary and yet she wasn’t. He had tried his brother’s mirror on the Lord of Starfall’s sibling and servants but unlike yesterday, it showed their reflection. He tried again, suspecting it had something to do with sunlight.  
He was correct.  
**_“Contrary to popular belief,”_** Agrippa’s book stated, **_“the vampire can go out in sunlight. He’s at his weakest time there. The oldest can last more than an hour before their flesh starts to burn. It is believed by those who’ve been afflicted by the curse and were subjected to observation before they were put out of their misery that they could subsist of more than blood. Blood just happened to be their necessary elixir. To the Aztecs -before the Spanish Conquest- blood was the conduit of the soul. The priest who learned their languages through Cortez’ native concubine, he came to translate some of these ‘demonic’ texts. They stated that their subjects experienced more than euphoria when they consumed blood. People would see visions, past, present and future. It soon became clear to the high priests that these weren’t visions but memories. The damned were reliving their victims’ experiences. At times they’d experience behavioral changes, acquiring some of their tastes, and opinions until these would fade. The vampire always craves blood because he lacks a soul and therefore the memories of his victims, revives the feelings they lost.”_**

Mary still had a reflection so she was still human. And aside from ignoring him, her behavior hadn’t changed. It didn’t make any sense. Why would the Lord of Starfall feast on her while living her soul intact? _  
Is she some kind of twisted experiment? Or some sort of amusement?_ He was going to find a way to get his little sister back, even if it killed him.

“It is too forward of me to ask for a kiss so I will simply ask for a favor. May you joust in my honor?” Mary asked her cousin.

“It will be my pleasure."

“Of course,” Mary said, hiding her disappointment.

“No one wants to unseat the Emperor, after all.” Harry told her after the Emperor and Ser Allem left. “You could have let me taunt him so he'd put his name in the lists. It's not too late. Just say the word, sis."

"That would be too bold of me."

"Nonsense, I will be your Sir Galahad. Say the word and I will put on my armor and defend our family honor."

"There is no need for you to do that Harry. You already make our family proud and you will need to be in one piece for when your bride comes."

"If our lady mother finds her suitable. She can barely speak a word of English from what Sir Thomas Cromwell told our father and your future husband didn't waste an opportunity to mock her 'petty little kingdom'." He said, trying to imitate his Imperial Highness, using a thick accented voice.

"You better not say these things. The walls have ears and our cousin has many informants."

"I don't care. They can tell him whatever they like of me. I won't deny it; I don't appreciate when someone makes fun of my future bride." Harry said.

"Maybe it is not her you care about but your honor. You always say that nothing is more important than that." Mary reminded him.

"You have it wrong, sis. It is family that is important. He can pretend to be humble and loyal like our mother's motto, but I can see right through him as I can see through others. Nobody insults our family and gets away with it. We are Tudors, we don't forgive or forget."

Mary groaned. "Let it go, Harry. He will leave in two months and if I am not pregnant by then, I will need him to be in good spirits so he doesn't lock me in a dreary castle like he did with his mother."

"He will never do that to you." I won't let him, Harry thought. He meant what he said to Mary. Nobody made fun of his family and got away with it. Edward and Mary might dismiss it as harmless fun, but for Harry, everything was personal. And as future sovereign, he couldn't let transgressions like these go unpunished.

Mary sensed his determination and offered him something to lighten his spirits, "Alright fine, I will let you joust. But it will have to wait until we are married.” Mary said giving a chagrin after she said the word 'married'. "Do you think George might come back?"

"You should be asking Kitty that. I am not one to believe in fairy tales."

"I know but that is why I am asking you. I don't want a feel-good answer. I need to know that people are being honest with me. Everything is going so fast and I feel different. Kitty doesn't believe me but I heard what she said to her best friend." Mary giggled as she remembered. "I also heard what her friend replied and what my father was telling my future husband as they passed my chambers."

"What did they say? Something naughty?" Harry asked, not having to guess really hard. Kitty always hid her comments from the rest of the court, save for a few friends and half of them weren't respectable people. Harry was surprised that none of them were forced to walk down naked in the streets like the infamous mad queen in Westeros nearly a century ago, or Jane Shore not too long ago in England during the reign of the usurper, Richard III.

"You are starting to sound like our lady mother and I know that is not something you want to hear. Can I ask you something and don't say 'it depends.'"

"Fine, you can but you may not like the answer. Most people don't when I tell them something that's not to their taste."

"They don't have my patience." Mary said. "Do you think I act like a nun with no will of my own?"

Harry blinked. "Why would I think that? You are prudent and that is wise for a woman your age with half of father's court sleeping with God knows who. It's a strength that seldom women and men have."

"Not according to Kitty. She said that I should not act like a nun, that I act like an old maid. It made me feel angry. It shouldn't but it did." Mary said. Harry invited her to sit on the sofa. He placed his arm around her. She nestled her head on his doublet. She could hear his heartbeat, feel his energy coursing through his body. 

"She shouldn't have said that but I wouldn't be surprised when little miss sunshine loves to make fun of everything. That is why she chooses the stupidest women of court so she will seem smarter." Harry told her kissing her forehead. "She couldn't understand the difference between legend and myth and said her head hurt then whined to my brother that I was making her feel stupid on purpose. I told her, I had no need to when she does that brilliantly herself."

The two laughed. 

"Do not listen to what she says. You are more than what people tell you."

"She didn't say that to me."

"You just said she did. Are you playing coy with me, sis?" He asked, hoping that this wasn't Kitty's way of getting back at him. If it was, his brother was a dead man. Mary's next words however made him feel sick to the pit of his stomach as they shattered their little moment of happiness and normalcy.

"I heard them whisper to her 'it is because her mother has raised her to be the perfect nun' and then Kitty said that to them. I told you, I can hear people whispering from rooms away. Maybe I am becoming like that dragon queen you used to talk about who resurrected three dragons from three stones she'd been given at her wedding."

"Yes, I gather you are. Although you're far prettier." He said with a small smile, giving her the impression that he was happy for her but she told him she could sense a dark cloud over him.

"You are mad. Is this because I still cling over George or because I am going to marry our cousin?"

"I am not mad Mary, I am just worried that you won't be happy. I want my little sister to be happy. You deserve it."

"We are royals, love is not something we can afford, especially a girl like me or the oldest of us like you." She pointed out.

Kitty Howard was right, his sister had grown sheltered by their parents. But she was by no means stupid. Inexperienced but not stupid and in her own way, she was wise; making sense of things others couldn't.

Without warning she fell asleep. Harry didn't wake her. He whispered in her ear, "I love you." Whatever these things had planned for her, he was going to do everything within his power to protect her. "I am not going to let anyone harm you." After a while, he carefully carried her back to her bedchamber and put her on the bed. Silently, he crept out of there, closing the doors behind him.

Even if it killed him, he was determined to keep her safe. The probability of her becoming one of  _them_ was high. If that were to happen, he'd rather be the one who was staked through the heart. There was a goodness in Mary that refused to die. Even if that bloodsucker drained her dry and turned her into a demon, the part of her that brought so many people joy, would still be there.

 _You are not someone who believes in fairy tales._ The rational side of him told him. It was right. He didn't believe in fairy tales, but he had faith. If there was one thing he had learned from his books was that the impossible was always possible. His grandfather, Henry VII, the first Tudor monarch, proved it when his armies beat Richard III with the help of his stepfather, and put down every rebellion and pretender whom everyone was sure would overthrow him.  
_I am a Tudor_. Despite what the Emperor and the rest of Europe thought, he came from a line of people who weren't afraid to take destiny by the reins and bend it to their will.  
Ancient or not, it wouldn't stand a chance against someone with strong will power. He could almost hear the ancestral voice of his great-grandmother, the formidable lady Richmond tell him _'Show them what we are. What we do to those that hurt us. Cut the head of the snake.'_ If his great-grandmother had been born a man, there would have been no York descendants left. But times have changed. Whereas his grandmother was quick to act, Harry needed to be patient, bidding his time until the right time came for him to strike.


	4. Broken Promises

_“She looked right through me_  
and I find it kind of funny  
I find it kind of sad  
that the dreams in which I am dying  
are the best I’ve ever had  
I find it hard to tell you  
I find it hard to take  
when people lie in circles  
it’s a very, very mad world.”  
**~Mad World, Sarah Hickman cover.**

“We’ve already been through this. Why can’t we just ask the imperial ambassador?” Edward asked his older brother.

“Because Eustace Chapuys cut all ties to Agrippa before he died. I already told you, we are going to get nowhere with him.” Harry told his younger brother, but Edward insisted. “Even if he does know something, he isn’t likely to tell us. His first loyalty is to his master, our cousin.”

“Then what do we do? We have tried your method, it’s time we try mine.”

“Which is? Going straight into the wolf’s den and demanding answers? You are going to get us both killed.” Harry said in an obvious tone but as usual, his impetuous brother didn’t listen. When he went to visit Mary, he found her with the emperor. Her ladies were with her, so were some of his attendants.

Edward wasn’t as skilled in shaming his cousin the way his older brother did so he chose to come at a later time. While he waited, he went to the gardens where he found his mother and the lord of Starfall.

It didn’t take a genius to see the obvious. His mother invited the lord of Starfall to her personal library. Edward followed them discreetly. She had told most of her attendants to go. Lady Willoughby and two others remained, standing guard outside her chambers.

 _Why is she risking father’s wrath?_ His father was a hard man to read. Like Harry, he was a good actor but unlike his older brother who was good at pretending he didn’t care for someone, their father wasn’t so skilled. His parents had grown apart. Like so many at court, his mother thought his father no longer loved her but she couldn’t be more wrong. He and his older saw the way his father looked at her when she danced and entertained their guests. There was still love in there but his father was just too damn stubborn to admit it because that would mean having to admit his mistakes as well and apologizing and if there was one thing his father hated above all, was apologizing.

If his father didn’t swallow his pride, he’d lose her. No prince and bishop in the world would oppose his father if he expressed his desire to cast her aside. The emperor might at first, until he realized that the accusations against his saintly aunt were true _. If Mary isn’t one of the damned by that time, she will speak on her behalf_. But what good would that do? As royal consort, there would not be much Mary could do except scream and berate her husband for failing to support their mother and condemn their father’s actions.

All the royal houses in Europe would be vying for his father’s favor. Francis I of France had said unflattering things about his mother. This would be his chance to push for an Anglo-French alliance, effectively neutralizing the Emperor. In return, the Emperor would counter Francis’ offer by offering Henry a list of beautiful highborn maidens to be his next wife. Knowing his father, he’d caved in because like him, he couldn’t handle the idea of being alone.

The real loser would be his mother. Whatever that undead bastard was planning, his plans didn’t include his mother. When he was done with them, he would discard her as easily as kings discarded their spouses when they became useless or barren. She’d be the lamb to the slaughter. Humiliated and after having her marriage annulled, she’ll be sent to some convent or some remote location to live off at the king’s mercy.  
_She will be lucky that her royal blood will spare her_. Henry VIII couldn’t handle betrayal and discovering that his beloved queen of hearts had betrayed him, would sent him to the edge.

Edward was tempted to burst into her chambers and beg her to stop what she was doing but in the end, he chose not to. His mother was a skilled politician. If she was as smart as she said she was, she would back away before things got out of hand and people started talking. He prayed to God that she would because if all of which he feared came to pass, he swore to God Almighty he’d take Arthur Dayne and his brood down.

* * *

 

“My father taught me how to use a sword when I was four. I never had much use for it like Arthur. Arthur was the warring type, not me. I preferred to look over the family’s finances and invest my time in reading and poetry.” Arthur told the English Princess. He was glad that the Emperor had left quickly and that her brother was no longer spying on them or his brother, so he’d have time to talk with her.

It was forbidden. She was in love with George Boleyn and when news reached her of his ‘death’, she’d freaked, but at the moment he didn’t care. He just wanted to be with her. There was something in the Princess Mary that made him feel whole.

So what if his brother released George Boleyn after this was over? Didn’t Allem deserve to be happy too?

At first, Mary reminded him of his sister, Ashara. As time went by, he realized that she wasn’t at all like Ashara and had more in common with the wolf maiden his brother despised. Mary was rebellious, outspoken yet insecure about her appearance that she didn’t know how to use her beauty to her own advantage. Much like Lyanna. He had met the wolf maiden twice. He’d been impressed. Outspoken, with a strong desire to live her life the way she wanted, she disregarded the rules and plunge the seven kingdoms into chaos. Some said that it was selfish of her but Allem thought it was brave. Ever the hopeless romantic, he wished that he could experience a love as intensely as that experienced by Lyanna and Rhaegar.  
Now that Mary was within his reach, he felt that this was his chance to have that. Yet, his conscience stopped him, reminding him that it wouldn’t be fair.  
What about me? His conscience brought back the memory of George, and how lovingly he had spoken of her. The two loved each other and deserved to be happy. But what about me? He insisted. Haven’t I done enough? While Arthur goes on his quest to win Elia’s heart, why shouldn’t I try my luck with this wild maiden? His conscience gave him the same answer ‘she is not yours to have.’

It was funny. Legends abounded of undead creatures destined to walk alone for eternity. He was living proof that monsters were real and some, by a cruel twist of fate rather than by choice, were the embodiment of men feared, starting with loneliness. He wasn’t going to be lonely however. If it wasn’t his destiny to be with Mary, then he’d at least make her transition as comfortable as possible so by the time that she and George were reunited, she’d be prepared for her new life. And as for Arthur, he was his brother. Arthur had dreams but his number one priority would always be his family. If he succeeded in winning Catherine over, he’d still keep Allem around because the two had been through everything together, and blood was thicker than water.

Mary was intrigued to hear him talk about his childhood. He seldom talked about his childhood at Dorne. “Your brother must have enjoyed the attention he was getting? I know, I would if I were a good swordsman as he is. Susan tells me that the jaws of the noblewomen nearly hit the floor when they saw him fight with two swords.”

“Arthur can handle any fight but Dawn is his favorite. I am sure that my brother must have made it seem like he did but he never craved attention the way I did. He was mostly shy and always kept to himself.”

“What changed?”

“Our parents died and he felt he had a greater calling. He felt he had a greater calling so he worked to get better until one day he did.” Allem said, leaving all the lurid details out.

“I am terribly sorry to hear that. What are summers in Dorne like? I heard that it hardly gets any cold, even during winter.”

“Whatever you heard, you have been misinformed. Winters in Dorne are not like those in the far north in Winterfell. They are far more tolerable but by no means easy. In the mornings it is as any other day, hot and dry but at night, the temperature drops fast and with the heavy winds we get, it makes the cold ten thousand times worse. Unlike the North, dry cold is something that you feel it in your bones.”

“Sounds like my mother’s home. When I was a child she would talk endlessly about it. She’d say to me if I was lucky enough, one day I would see it.” She gave a nervous laugh. “I guess one should be careful for what one wishes for.”

“May I ask you something personal, Your Highness?”

“Please, call me Mary. We are friends, aren’t we?” He nodded. “What is it you wish to ask me, Allem?”

 _She is nice. Too nice._ He wished that Arthur didn’t have to involve her in his plans. Allem wished that he didn’t have feelings for Mary. If his sister were here she’d be reprimand him. He could almost hear her voice telling him why it wasn’t right to covet another man’s wife. _But she isn’t George’s wife_. Anything could happen in a year. Plague, starvation, venom. But Ashara reminded him of his vows. You are the best of the three of us. Don’t spoil yourself the way our brother did.  
It wasn’t fair. In another life, the two might have well been. But since when have the gods ever been fair to the Daynes?

“Well, what is it you wish to ask me?” Mary asked, bringing him back from his chain of thought.

“Yes, that, of course. Pardon me, I get sidetrack a lot. My brother says that I spend too much thinking of idle things.”

“You say that as if that was a bad thing. I always think of books and dances rather than politics because truth be told, politics is so boring. My father likes to think that he is in charge of the country but it is his ministers who are. He is just there to nod or shake his head, and sign their papers. The only true politician in my family is my mother and Harry, which makes it impossible to be around them because you never know what they are thinking and if they are being honest.”

“I see. Arthur was never meant to be a lord. Our parents wanted him to serve in the royal army. He had the skill and the brains to become a general but my brother chose to remain at Starfall where he looked after his states after they died. It was refreshing at first. We kept to ourselves the first decade. Him overlooking the family business, and me building a new collection of books. Things became harder when he became obsessed with buying new properties in Europe. I told him that it would be better if we stayed in Dorne but he didn’t want to listen to me.” He sighed. “Look at me, I was going to ask you something personal and instead I got to talk about my problems. I am not a very good courtier, am I?”

“No.” She said honestly. “If you were, you wouldn’t be my friend. What is it you wish to ask me?” She said, getting closer to him.

His heart was beating faster. It shouldn’t be like this. He shouldn’t be wishing for Lord Rochford’s death, but he couldn’t help to give in to his darkest desires when his death would mean she’d be free to choose him. He pushed those thoughts away as he asked his question. “Do you want to marry the Emperor? I promise I won’t reveal your secret.”

Mary shook her head. “No.” She said, having less problem to admit the truth than she would have before. “But what can I say or do to stop it? Even if you were to say something, Allem, I am afraid it wouldn’t make much of a difference. Sometimes I wish that I was like my namesake, my aunt Mary. She was the youngest child so she could afford to do whatever she liked after her first husband, God rest his soul. My mother even defended her.”

“You could do the same. If George Boleyn were to come home, you could marry him and the problem will be solved.”

“I could, couldn’t I? But then, what future would await us? Do you think Henry Percy would have risked his father’s wrath to marry the woman of his dreams over the wealthy heiress, Mary Talbot if my father didn’t promise him two more castles and an increase to his annual income after he slept with George’s sister? The Boleyns are ambitious but even they have their limits. If George and I were to get married, my mother would find the perfect excuse to banish them from court. As much as I love George, I could never do that to him.”

“Your father loved his sisters, especially the Countess of Northumberland and from what I am hearing, he is prepared to give your half-sister, the lady Elizabeth an earldom of her own like he did with your mother’s friend, the Countess of Salisbury.”

“Yes, and with the right person influencing him, he can change his mind at the last minute and take it away.” Mary explained to him. She was glad to hear that she had a new sister. Although she didn’t get along with Anne, for George and Kitty’s sake, she was cordial to her. She and her father had named the baby ‘Elizabeth’ after both her grandmothers, Elizabeth Boleyn and Elizabeth of York. Mary was chosen as the tot’s godmother with Kitty and Harry as her other godparents. It should have made her mother proud -it certainly made her cousin, who was anxious to see more favors bestowed on his future wife, proud- but all it did, was make her angry. She spent hours lecturing Mary on how she should act like a ‘true’ Princess and not some like barmaid, eager to please everyone and demeaning herself by accepting to be Elizabeth’s godmother. Mary shot back, telling her in front of her ladies and the Lord of Starfall, that she would rather demean herself in front of a little girl who was her blood than the hypocrite her mother wanted to marry. Her mother looked hurt, her ladies shook their heads with dismay at the Princess, while Lord Starfall’s gaze hardened. It was in that moment that she began to wonder if her mother did love her, or just what she represented?

“It doesn’t have to be that way. I am sure that the Countess could intercede on your behalf and you are your father’s favorite, so I bet he’d love the idea of you staying in England more than leaving the country to marry some bigshot.”

“My father needs that alliance and with Wolsey dead, he is relying more on Cromwell who agrees with my mother on one thing and that is viewing an Imperial alliance more favorably than a French one.” She looked away. “Besides, George seems happy trekking Westeros.”

A knot formed in his throat. Tell her the truth, his conscience whispered. He couldn’t. He was loyal to his House and his brother. He couldn’t betray him.

* * *

 

George wrote in his journal about his experiences at Castle Dayne. Days had turned into weeks. Weeks into a month. He didn’t hear anything about the outside world except what his vampire captives told him. The man in charge informed him that he had been fifteen for some time now. When George asked him how long he was fifteen, he shrugged. Clearly, there was something else he wasn’t telling him. George meant to find out what that was but every time he came in, the women would stay.

“You are so pensive. I wonder if it is about that royal. What was her name now, Mary?”

“Princess Mary.” He told the vampire woman. “Why are you doing this? Why not take her mother and get over with it?”

“Oh honey, you clearly have never held a grudge like Lord Dayne has. It isn’t just the big families he wants to take down, but your masters as well.”

George looked at her, bewildered. What could the Tudors have done to Arthur Dayne and Elia Martell? “Why would he want to attack Henry VIII, the Tudors were before his time.”

She and her companions smiled. Her smile especially, sent shivers down his spine as she approached him. “The Tudors were the biggest killers in Lord Dayne’s sad, sad story.” She said, being coy with him again.

She lay him down. Her companions restrained him while she bit his arm. Not strong enough to push them away, after she was finished, the others bit him in other parts of his body, leaving just enough so he’d regain his strength the following morning.

His mother had always taught him that good things come to those who wait. His father, the same, only he’d added that if he wanted something great, he had to fight for it, by bidding his time until it was the right time to take what he wanted. All his years of being under his father’s wing, meant nothing now. The only things that kept him going was Mary and his belief in God.

Amarna read to her companions what he wrote, earning a little laugh from the youngest of the seven. A girl who looked like she was seven but in reality, she’d told him earlier, was older.

“It is so romantic. Our lord used to write poems to his beloved Elia. What will I ever choose to cure this painful sorrow?” She began, quoting from one of the passages she read from Lord Arthur Dayne’s writings. One of the few he let her and her companions read when they were bored and had nothing better to do, nor playmates to indulge in.

George closed his eyes. It felt like a good time to pray. If his father saw him now he’d shake his head at him. His mother too, although she’d be more vocal. She had always been vocal. When he was a kid, she would yell at him, scold him for not being ‘manly’ enough. When he was named Ambassador, it was the first time George saw that woman smile at him. _God, please. If you are there, keep Mary safe. Please, make it so I get out of this with my sanity and able to return to Mary, and save her before she becomes one of the undead._ Nothing mattered more to him than Mary. For some reason, that madman and his brother were after her. Why? The only reason he could think of, was to hurt her father. But again, why? What had the Tudors done that garnered so much hatred on the part of Arthur Dayne? None of this made any sense.

Feeling another wave of pain, he pressed his lips tightly. He was not going to give the satisfaction. They had already made him succumb when they engaged in foreplay, but he would not give them the broader satisfaction of hearing him scream. His body was weak, but not his mind. He would get through this. When this was all over, he would smile as he watched Castle Dayne and all its cursed inhabitants burn to the ground.

* * *

 

“First you do this, then this.” Arthur said, showing her and her ladies his sword skills. Some of the ladies had tried to wield Dawn but failed miserably. He tried to explain to them that only members of his family could wield it.

Some of them giggled and said that it was bewitched by love, while others whispered that it was mere legend.

If only they knew. Dawn had been fashioned out of a meteor and other rare metals his ancestors found near his home. The skills in metallurgy which they used to fashion Dawn had been lost after the Martell’s ancestor, Mors Martell married Nymeria whose band of refugees re-settled and unified Dorne, forcing all other Houses (including his) to bend the knee to them.

Unlike his family, Arthur never bore resentment to the Martells. He was a servant and he was happy to serve others. But when he met Elia, things changed. She convinced him that they could have a life together and he believed her, swearing that he’d always protect her by becoming a member of the kingsguard. He wasn’t the youngest, that honor was given to the now maligned Jaime Lannister. But he was one of the order’s most accomplished members, becoming a commander before he was twenty. His parents, especially his father felt proud of him. His friend, Rhaegar, even prouder. He named him the ‘best and most honorable knight of the seven kingdoms’. Arthur couldn’t help but feel guilty when he was with Elia. But Elia, being Elia, reminded him that as long as he was in the Prince’s good grace, he’d never suspect them.

“Then back and …” He became silent as he let her ladies’ mouths open in amazement as they saw him wield two swords as easily as if he was fighting with training sticks.

“Where did you learn such skills?” Maria, the Countess Dowager of Willoughby asked him.

“A friend taught me and the rest, came to me naturally.” It was a white lie. His father was involved in his training and so were Ser Whent who was one of the greatest swordsmen before he replaced him as captain.

“You are very gifted.” Catherine said, a thin smile on her lips.

Arthur bowed his head at the Queen and the ladies, thanking them for their compliments.

“It is no compliment. We speak the truth here. I have never seen someone who fought so valiantly as you, or humble enough to let a mere boy of twenty one unseat him.”

Her ladies giggled.

Arthur gave a shy smile. He was like this when he was around Elia. He was not much of a people’s person. His sister would tease him, calling him cold and without much of a personality and Allem, ever the people-pleaser, said the same. It was only when he was with Elia, that he would smile, laugh or allow himself to indulge in earthly pleasures.

“Your Highness was the better man.”

“Yes, I am sure of that. You flatter him too much, my lord. My sons have too much of their father to know what true humility is. In letting yourself lose, to win his father’s favor, you have done the future King of England a great disfavor.”

“I will keep that in mind next time I joust.” Arthur said simply, not missing the scorn from her voice when she mentioned her husband.

Must history repeat itself again? He was dismayed when he met her daughter. It wasn’t fair that his daughter was raped and killed, her body burned, while the Princess of England, a vain and simple creature, was greatly favored by her father at the expense of her mother.  
Yet, like her father, she was good at garnering sympathy from strangers, including his brother who had fallen for her. _Pathetic. Allem should know better than to fall for a stupid, silly, little girl who will never love anyone but herself._  
It also pained him that a woman as remarkable as Catherine had to deal with such an ungrateful brat.

“Sadly there will not be another tournament. Harry is too conscious that he might scar his pretty face and he wants to be in one piece when his German bride comes.” She said bitterly.

If it wasn’t for her nephew convincing her that it was a good idea to have an alliance with Cleves, to keep an eye on it, she would continue to protest it.

“I hear she is a virtuous lady.”

Catherine gave a sardonic smile. “Virtuous, she may be. But she knows nothing about how to run a kingdom. If something, God forbid, were to happen to my lord husband or my son -when he is king- who would be placed in charge? The people will expect someone who knows how to handle a kingdom, not some silly house wife.”

Women like those, made her ashamed to be a woman. She remembered how her mother told her father that if she were a man she would not have hesitated to burst into the gates of Granada, not waiting for their surrender, and cutting down the heads of the Nazari royal family. But alas, for some reason the Almighty had made them women. It was for this reason and this reason alone that Catherine encouraged every one of her ladies to become educated, so they wouldn’t be taken advantage by their sons and husbands. A woman like Anna of Cleves was taught that all she needed to do was keep her mouth shut and sew. _Pathetic. Poor creature._ She had seen one of Holbein’s paintings. She had laughed. Harry was annoyed when he heard what she said. He called her cruel and asked her to show more decorum but Catherine told him that how could she, when his future bride knew nothing about everything except how to be his mouthpiece.

“When I married Prince Arthur, my lady, the King’s mother, was astounded by Spanish fashions. My mother-in-law, asked me to put on a show for her and the King and so I did. There was not one courtier that didn’t find us fascinating. The Queen thought that I was too forward so I began to imitate her, adopting some of her fashions but after a while it became boring. My poor son’s future wife, is ill-prepared for her future role. I shudder to think what she has to show for herself when Henry asks her and her ladies to amuse us, and mind you, my lord, he will because Henry loves to be entertained.”

“In that case, Your Majesty should take the poor girl under your wing. Nothing would be more merciful and I am sure your son will forever be in your debt.”

It was a good plan. Harry was stubborn as a mule, but once he saw how Catherine had helped his wife become the perfect English consort, he’d be indebted to her. And there was nothing more than Catherine loved than to show herself useful.

“It is a wonder why you are not in a higher position in Dorne. You are more cordial than the Westeros Ambassador.” Catherine said, knowing full well that he’d know her criticism was directed at the ruling house of Dorne.

“The Martells have become a joke since Princess Arianne left the throne to one of Prince Oberyn’s bastard daughters.”

“Stranger things have happened.” Catherine pointed out, citing how her family came from a line of bastards, and so did her husband’s.

“Your line fought a war to obtain the throne. Your husband’s as well. In contrast, the new Martells were merely given the throne because of their cousin’s attachment to their father.” Arthur said. “The Westeros ambassador, like most of his family members, have very little to commend him except his drinking and whoring.” He said bluntly.

Catherine smiled at his boldness. She told her ladies except Maria to leave them. “Would you teach me how to use these.”

The request surprised Arthur. Elia had never shown in interest for complex weapons. She knew how to defend herself against weak attackers. Who was him though, to say ‘no’ to her? Seeing how determined she was, he gently placed his second sword on her hands.

“It feels light.”

“It is supposed to. It is Valyrian. Unlike other Valyrian swords however, it is easier to wield. The handle is also lighter.”

She followed through easily. There was a big mirror the room. As Arthur stood behind her, guiding her every move, she looked at their reflection, thinking how well they looked. As if they were one being, one entity, stronger together than apart.

“Then there is the kill. You have to be ready to plunge it into a man’s heart or when he is unguarded.”

“And here I thought, you were an honorable man.”

“Honorable men get killed and betrayed.” Arthur said, remembering his near-demise at the hands of Stark and his brute companion.

“So I just strike them, like this?” Catherine asked, swiftly pushing the blade forward.

“Yes, like that. Congratulations, Your Majesty. You’ve become a lethal fighter.”

“Is there any other kind?” Catherine asked. Her parents’ armies came to mind. They weren’t afraid to defend king, queen and country. Catherine wished she could fight alongside them. It was a pity, that she couldn’t. Arthur’s lessons gave her the hope that someday she might. Perhaps against an unknown assailant, or better yet, against someone who wanted to take her cubs away from her.

“Do you think me capable, though?” Catherine asked.

Arthur looked at their reflection and thought the same. He was glad the sun had set. Otherwise, thr truth would be known.

He wanted to take her, here and now. Trigger her memories, show her who she was in her past life and through that, make her fall in love with him again.

“I think Your Majesty is more than capable, just as you were when you led the English to victory at Flodden.”

“You exaggerate. I was merely its leaders. I didn’t fight like His Grace, the Duke of Norfolk, his father and other generals back then.”

“The victory was yours. They would never have achieved it if it weren’t for your leadership.” Arthur said, wishing he could tell her that she was a far better leader than her oaf of a husband.

Catherine shrugged. She had wished to be at the head of armies, clad in armor like her mother when she inspected her troops but she conformed herself to be the defacto ruler while her husband was seeking glory in France.

As she felt him closer, she thought of her visions again. They’d begun to become clearer. A man, as gallant as him, but less cold to those around him, promising to keep her safe. The bible said that you lived only once, but another gospel contradicted that stating that the prophet lived many lives. Was it not possible then, that she had a past life? Could the Lord of Starfall have a past life as well and that was why these visions had become clearer to her?

Maria watched the two of them, feeling dread. Henry VIII was a man who still fashioned himself Sir Loyal Heart. And even if he no longer loved her, he still thought of her as his wife. If someone were to convince him that the Queen was unfaithful to him, there was no telling what he would do to her mistress.

She cleared her throat, breaking their tender moment, then reminded the Queen that she had an appointment with her husband. The two of them were going to receive the Cleves ambassador to make the final arrangements for the Prince of Wales’ bride.

Catherine thanked Arthur Dayne for his patience then excused herself.

Maria gave him a warring glance. She loved Catherine like a sister. If something happened to her because of this man, she’d make sure he suffered.

Arthur regretted leaving Catherine but he understood the delicacy of their situation. He was glad that she had someone loyal like Maria by her side. If only she had someone like that when she was Elia. Rhaegar had deprived her of any chance of being friends with anyone at court, save for the roughnecks that he kept as company.

 _“I bore Rhaegar a son and he still thinks that is not enough. What more proof does he needs? Any blind man can see Aegon is his son yet still he goes on about this prophecy. The three heads of the dragon. What about me? Haven’t I done more than any other consort?”_ She’d screamed at him. She was right. Elia’s firstborn wasn’t Rhaegar’s but she easily passed as her husband’s because no one thought that someone as ‘meek’ as Elia, would be capable of cuckolding her husband.

When it came to have another child, she asked Arthur to lay with her. Arthur refused her. In retrospect, it was a bad choice on his part. People saw Rhaegar as the people’s prince, few knew his darkest secrets.

Robert Baratheon had called him a shithead blond who loved to rape girls. Of course, Robert Baratheon was a brute whose word couldn’t be trusted, but he wasn’t entirely incorrect.

Laying with Rhaegar had broken Elia’s spirits. All she ever wanted was to be with the man she loved. When she was with Rhaegar, she told Arthur that she imagined she was with him.

_“If he continues like this, I will surely die. You must help me. You can put an end to all of this. Rhaegar trusts you. If he suspects, I can poison him.”_

_“Elia, no. That is treason. The two of us can be killed just by speaking these things.”_

_“I don’t care. I’d rather die than bear him a child.”_ She told him and like a fool, he chose his Prince instead of his true love.

The night after that, Rhaegar came. He was outside their bedchamber. Elia feigned sickness, but Rhaegar didn’t swallow her lie, and told her he needed to have his second head of the dragon. She implored him not to lay with her. But naturally, obsessed that he needed his ‘prince who was promised’ along with the three heads of the dragon to restore order to the chaos his father had created, he persisted.

Elia wasn’t the same after that. Rhaegar told him to check on her. Arthur knew that words wouldn’t be enough to express to her how sorry he was.

_“Get out. If I die because of his seed, it will be on you.”_

She didn’t die, but she was left weak. And that is what led Rhaegar to turn his eye to Lyanna. Like Princess Mary, a rebellious, vain, silly little girl who thought that she was living a fairy tale by riding off to her prince, she plunged the realm into chaos.

After Arthur was cursed, he ran off to King’s Landing hoping that he’d arrive in time to save Elia, their daughter and Rhaegar’s son but to his horror, he was far too late.

Now he had the chance of bringing their daughter back and ironically, it was going to be through Henry VIII’s precious pearl.


	5. Little by little the truth comes out

_“Does he still come around like an injured bird needing a nest_  
a place to rest his head in the song you'll regret  
still you take him, Lord knows I don't want to compete  
still I sleep in the various sheets he's been in  
Swallow 'em whole like a pill that makes you choke  
and steals your soul  
You had the nerve to look me in the eye and lie  
send him back, I will not share this trap you have me in."  
**~"Sheets" by Damien Jurado**

_"I try to show schemers how pathetic their attempts to control things really are. It is the schemers that put you where you are. You were a schemer, you had plans and look where that got you … I took your little plan and turned it on itself. Nobody panics when things go according to plan, even if the plan is horrifying … but when I say one little old mayor will die then everyone loses their minds. Introduce a little anarchy. Upset the established order and everything becomes chaos. I am an agent of chaos. And you know the thing about chaos? It is fair.”_

**_~Joker in The Dark Knight (2008)_ **

George trembled. “Why is it so cold?” He asked his captors. “Why don’t you just kill me already?!”

“If we wanted you dead, you'd be dead already. Our Lord has bigger plans for you.” Mors said.

“I bet. Just before you send those leeches on me, mind me asking how long have you been fifteen? What’s so funny?”

“You. Forgive me but your people have the wrong notion about vampires.” Mors said letting out a chuckle when his female companions entered, ready to feast on him again.

“Is he ready? He looks frightened. Are all Englishmen so easy to fright? Lord Dayne should have sent us London again. It’s not fair he took my sister and cousin.”

“You could have asked Amarna.” Mors said in a matter of fact way. “You’ve always said that you were enchanted by that place after your first and only visit.”

“It’s so enjoyable. Nothing better than Welsh blood.” She laughed as she remembered her first innocent kill.

“Wait, you’ve been to England before?” George asked, suddenly not bothered by her companion, Alia sitting next to him.

“Of course we have, silly. You think our master would be so stupid as to go to a country he knowns nothing about?” She asked laughing harder.

Suddenly she sounds like Kitty. His cousin would laugh non-stop whenever she found something funny, even if the rest didn’t. It was a miracle that he still had a sense of hearing.

He pushed Alia’s hand away from his chest (gently) so she wouldn’t be mad and sat up, facing Mors. “Just tell me, why England of all places?”

“He already told you. He wants to gain his precious Elia again. You can’t blame him after what they did to his family.”

“What did they do?” George asked, wishing to learn more about his enemy before he escaped from this hellish place.

Mors gave a sigh. He pulled a chair and told his female companions to stop their games. “It happened over a century ago. He was called the sword of the morning. The bravest and most honorable knight that ever lived. It was a title he resented. He lived to make his family proud, keep his loved ones safe, nothing else. He didn’t see anything special in it. One day his master, the crown prince told him to steal Lord Rickard Stark of Winterfell’s only daughter.”

“Lyanna. I heard all about it. Westeros’ Helen of Troy.”

“Yes, except that she wasn’t kidnapped. To safeguard her honor, she convinced the dragon prince to make it look like he kidnapped her so if things went wrong, he’d be blamed not her. Lord Dayne was a mere knight back then but he was favored above all other knights by Rhaegar because the two had been friends since they were children. He told him not to do it but Rhaegar didn’t listen. Their union was the catalyst behind Robert Baratheon’s rebellion. Arthur tried to convince the wolf maiden to go back, and then tried the same with Rhaegar but by then, he began to suspect that something was amiss and he was right. When Elia was visiting Dorne, hoping that her mere presence would convince Lyanna and her husband to return her back to Winterfell, even after his father had burned her father, Lord Rickard and her older brother, Ser Brandon, Rhaegar found a love letter she had written o Arthur before she married him. Rhaegar was furious. Lyanna slapped Elia across the face and told her that was what Rhaegar got for marrying a libertine slut. Arthur could do nothing but watch as the two were humiliated. The rest, you know. Arthur already told you. Arthur was forced to guard Lyanna for the remainder of her pregnancy until she died giving birth to her bastard child who eventually became King, and hearing of Lyanna’s death, drove her intended groom over the edge and approved the Lannisters sending their champion, the Mountain to rape and kill Elia and her offspring.”

“So this is more than just an evil plot; he wants revenge.”

“He does." Mors confirmed. "I wasn’t there but when I feasted on what was left of Howland Reed, I saw some of his memories. I saw how he stabbed my master in the back as he was ready to give the final blow to Lord Stark.”

“Why, after all this time though? He could have gone to England after the Queen had Mary or before she married Henry VIII and rescue her from an unhappy marriage. If it’s her happiness he claims to care about, why wait so long?”

“You are still not looking hard enough. Think about when he told you what he had in store for your intended bride. You swore vengeance. Now imagine if you were a vampire like us, everything you love was stolen from you and yet you are almost as rich as every powerful lord in the world and you have all the time to plot your vengeance. Would you just take what is yours and then fight the armies of the living head on, knowing that even with all the powers of darkness, you are still outnumbered?” George said nothing. “It is more than just retribution, it is justice. He will spread his curse across the globe until he has enough cells to overthrow his enemies. Since his main enemies are dead, that leaves their descendants.”

“The Tudor dynasty is filled with many women, why Mary? Is this some kind of sick sense of humor he has? Punish the poor bloke who happened to fall in love with someone higher than him just like he did?”

“My master sympathizes with your plight. Through your blood, he saw that your love for the Princess is real. But he can’t afford putting aside his plans in favor of sentimentality. You will just have to be patient. If he succeeds, you and your princess can live together forever.”

“I don’t want to be with her forever. I want to grow old, to see her need me, to need her. Be there when she is sick and vice-verse. Living forever is not a gift, it is a curse.” George said.

“If you say so." Mors said, then added, "You are young, lord Rochford. There is a lot you have yet to see. If you truly love her, you will wait for her as she will surely wait for you. My lord has chosen your Princess above all others. That is a great honor.”

George scoffed at that. A tear fell as he thought about his family and Mary _. All roads lead to Mary_ , he used to joke. _I should have done more than just kiss her_. Mary was a frustrated virgin who prided herself in her virtue. She was afraid that she’d disappoint George as he was an experienced who had been all over Christendom. George assured her she’d never disappoint him. To make her feel more comfortable, he pledged his undying love to her on the day before he set sail to Westeros, also vowing that when he returned they would be man and wife in every sense of the word.

“Lord Dayne’s daughter was raped and killed. Ashara Dayne was fooled by the Stark brothers, namely Eddard who was the father of her dead child. After she was told lord Dayne was dead, she flung herself into the river.”

“And is that my fault? Bad things happen to people every day, they don’t go around and make other people unhappy and they sure as hell don’t take advantage of innocent young girls.”

“Lord Dayne doesn’t have to rape your beloved to get what he wants. She will give herself willingly if she hasn’t already.”

George shook his head vigorously. “I refuse to believe that. Mary loves me and she is a true believer. She would never open her legs for a murderous fiend like him.”

“She doesn’t have to. A vampire lord doesn’t have to force himself on his victims, he just unlocks their hidden desires.” Mors said simply, his voice completely devoid of any emotion, albeit his eyes held sympathy for the English Viscount.

“What will be left for me? I have given up everything for her.” George sobbed as the image of Mary and that man crossed his mind. It didn’t help that the major leech, Amarna got on the bed and began to slid her hands underneath his doublet, all the way down to his groin. “Tainted by sin, that’s no true love.”

“You have given yourself to many women, why should her maidenhood or lack thereof make a difference? If your love for her is pure, does it matter who was her first? We are material beings; our bodies react to our environment. There is nothing wrong with giving ourselves to our basic instincts as long as we retain control over our senses.”

“What your master is doing is wrong." George said. There was no other way to put it. "He is abusing an innocent girl who has never been with anyone, who will be at her most vulnerable.”

“If that were true, which it isn’t, then wouldn’t my master’s actions be seen as merciful? He is relieving her of her pain of losing you. When he is done, you two will see each other again and when you do, you will see that it will be you who is on her heart and soul, not my master.”

George didn’t believe that, but he didn’t want to hear any more of Mors, excusing his master’s behavior.

As Mors rose and told him that he’d continue to ensure that he wasn’t fully turned until his master was back with his princess, George vowed harder to get out of here.

One day an opportunity arose. Unfortunately, after nearly two months of being these creatures' prisoners, he proved to be a slow learner. He'd forgotten all about their endurance in the sunlight. When he stepped outside of the window, holding on as hard as he could, he heard Amarna and her companion's taunts. 

It was enough to make him jump. Amarna mocked him. She told him he would not survive the fall, so did Mors who showed true concern but George didn't care. He'd rather die trying than be one of them. So, like Ashara Dayne before him, he flung himself into the river. 

* * *

 “Your Majesty?”

“Yes? What is it Lady Parr?” She asked her lady-in-waiting who came into the solar, curtseying to her mistress first before she told her the news.

Lady Parr had chosen to remain in Her Majesty’s service after her offspring were married. She and Catherine had become acquainted since she became Henry’s wife and not wishing to leave, she asked the queen to remain in her service. Catherine naturally said ‘yes’, grateful that she had someone else besides Maria whom she could count on.

To show her lady-in-waiting her gratitude, she made her daughters, Katherine and Anne, ladies in waiting as well.

“Your son is here to see you.” The way she said it, Catherine didn’t need to ask whom she meant. She and her friends had a secret code in which they communicated. A simple glance was all she needed.

Maud then looked quizzically at her mistress, glancing at her partner. Her daughters gazed at one another. They were uncomfortable with aiding their royal mistress, in meeting with the Lord of Starfall. Even though their relationship had remained platonic, it still posed a serious problem to them, especially Lady Latimer. She didn't wish to see her mistress end up in disgrace like other English Consorts before her.

Arthur Dayne didn’t need to know of Catherine and Maud's secret code to know that it was the stuck up Prince of Wales.

“Show him in, then.” Catherine said, her voice leaving no room for discussion.

Maud crossed herself mentally. The Prince of Wales wasn’t like his younger siblings but he had his mother’s temper and if he suspected something, he would unleash his fury on the both of them.  
Just thinking of it sent chills down her spine. The Prince could be so kind at times, but at others, he was cold, turning people away from with just one look.

“Your Highness.” She curtsied to him again and showed him inside.

Harry was not surprised to see his mother with that man. While his mother was busy entertaining their ‘honorable guests’, he and Edward were investigating about his family history. Instead of beating his younger brother to a bloody pulp, as Edward wanted, they did things his way.

Things started to fall into place after they put one of the final pieces on the puzzle. Thanks to the Westeros Ambassador, they were able to find out about certain irregularities in the Daynes’ stories, starting with their parents. Westeros had started a census of every noble family. The records for House Dayne didn’t match any other. Arthur asked the Westeros ambassador why his master investigate? He said it was because the Daynes were one of his strongest supporters and one of the few remaining ancestral Houses in Dorne besides the Martells.  
It didn’t take long for Harry to figure out Arthur Dayne was the same Arthur Dayne who died over a century ago after Robert’s Rebellion.

All this time, the answer was staring him right in the face. Harry had to find a way to kill them and rescue his sister. The texts said that there was no way to kill that which was already dead. But the texts were also wrong when it came to describing them. According to them, they were toothless beings with the expect of two canine teeth, pale skin and shining blue eyes, who couldn’t go out in the sun. Agrippa’s book disproved that, and so did Edward’s accidental test with the mirror. They could clearly go out in the sunlight (how long? He wasn’t sure) but they didn’t have any reflection during daylight.

If he could get a room full of mirrors it would be enough to expose them. But that would leave his mother powerless against his father’s wrath. He doesn’t have to know. As if his father would go on ignorant for long. His father loved to pretend that he didn’t care for his mother any longer, while still respecting her in public, but the truth was that he still loved her. And he couldn’t blame him. His father was a hopeless romantic who still thought of himself as the knight in shining armor and Catherine, his lovely maiden.

 _Fool_. He seldom criticized his father, but when it came to his mother, he could think of no better term.

“Mother, Lord Dayne. What a pleasant surprise. May I speak to you in private Madame?” He asked cordially.

Arthur’s gazed sharply at him. His look, a warning not to try anything foolish or he wouldn’t be restrained from tearing him to pieces.

Catherine gave him a small smile then turned to her guest. “We will discuss it later. Thank you for your lessons, Lord Arthur.”

“My pleasure, Your Majesty. Your Highness.” He said, kissing her hand as she extended it to him after he rose from his seat, then curtsied to the Prince and left.

“What is it you wish to speak to me of?” When Arthur didn’t answer, instead waiting for his mother to take that sarcastic smile off her face, she sighed. “Come on, son. I know you. Whenever you call me Madame is because you mean to punish me. For what, I have no idea but I suppose that is the way with you Tudors. You have always been a mystery even to your own selves.”

“We are no more mysterious than your family, Madame.” Harry retorted. His tone cold, still holding a proud pose. “I would like if we were to talk alone.”

“Whatever you have to say to me you can say it in my ladies’ presence. Ladies Parr and Willoughby are people I trust.” So should you, she implied.

“Very well, then forgive me if I seem too blunt. But do you have any idea who you are dealing with? Your daughter is sick.”

“Mary is over dramatic. She has always been a sensitive child. Remember Maria when she was ten and she stole a horse from the royal stables.” Her ladies gave a chuckle. “She nearly gave us a heart attack but God be praised, she was soon found unharmed.”

“This is not the same, mother.” He said, this time his tone was harsh. “Mary has night terrors. You are her mother, you should be by her bedside making inquiries.”

“What is there for me to do? Mary doesn’t want me. She is still mourning her darling Viscount Rochford. Didn’t you know?”

“Know what?” He asked, his gaze narrowing. What could this woman possibly know that he didn’t?

“It arrived yesterday night. I went to her bedside and with your father and your sister-in-law, told her the news. Look if you do not believe me.” She gestured to Maria to bring the letter that had arrived from Dorne. The Countess gave it to the Queen who gave it to her son.

When Harry was finished, he couldn’t believe it. “Mary … Mary has been informed?” His mother nodded. “His body? Arrangements need to be made-“

His mother raised her hand, motioning him to be silent. “Arrangements will be made, but not until Mary marries the Emperor.”

Harry couldn’t believe his mother’s calculating mind. If this weren’t his sister, he would be impressed and praise her cunning. But Mary was his little sister and he had sworn to protect her from everything and everyone, including their family.

“How can you be so insensitive?”

“Excuse me?”

“Mary is your daughter. Your only daughter. You should have waited until they had confirmation that it was his body they found ashore. This is going to destroy her.”

“Or it will put her mind at ease. Either way, we rid ourselves of one problem, and England will get to keep its precious alliance.”

“Mother, this isn’t one of your court entertainments or masques, this is your daughter. You can’t use her as your pawn. How exactly do you think Mary will react when she walks down the aisle and utters the words ‘I do’ to a man she doesn’t love?”

“We all have our duties. As a Princess, Mary ought to have known better than to entertain such fantasies. Your father is to blame for that. He has always indulged her.”

“So have you.” Harry shot back. “Or do you forget what you told me when you found me with one of your ladies? You said that I needed to go away, despite me begging you to believe me that I was innocent of the charges laid against me, because I was a bad influence on my sister.”

“And you were. Mary always asked for you ‘where is my brother Wales?’ ‘I want to see Harry.’ It was hard for me to explain to her that her darling older brother had debased himself with the help.”

“At least I didn’t marry one like Edward. Nobody said a thing when he took Kitty Howard to bed.”

“Your brother is Duke of York. He will never inherit and if he were, well we are lucky the Howard girl has proved herself fertile.” Catherine said simply.

“It is not the same thing. Edward slept with how many women before he married Kitty or his wife before he met Edward and don’t give to me that excuse that others use in her defense that she was abused because you as I know that Howard girls are not so innocent.”

“Why is it that you are really here, Harry? Is it to warn me, to reproach me of some past deed? Why can’t you let the past be the past, son. You proved your worth to me and your father, that should be enough for you.”

“You are right, it should except that I have a spineless hypocrite for a mother.”

Catherine glared at him. “Careful, Harry. You are my eldest son and I love you, but I am still your Queen and until your father dies, you are to respect me. After he dies, you can do whatever you want. Keep whoring around if you’d like, squirt bastards into your whores bellies like your father does and grieve your wife. That is what you want isn’t it? To be like your father.”

“I don’t want to be like you or my father. I intend to be my own man, a good King and do what is best for the country.” Catherine snorted at that. “How many Kings have said that before? Your aunt Juana said the exact same thing, now look where she is at.” She told her eldest son.

“You have always given me the example of your sister, your only surviving sister.” He emphasized on the last part. “Tell me mother, did it make you feel special, delivering those treacherous letters of her to your father? She confided in you just like Mary is confiding in you and you still prefer one of your dunce relatives over your own.”

“Enough Harry! I will not have you speak to me in such a manner. I am your mother and your Queen. You will show me respect.”

“Clearly you are more than that since you are so good a hostess to our guest. Do you know what father will do once he finds out?”

“How dare you insinuate such a thing?”

“I dare because I have eyes and they see how you look at him every time you are together.” Before his mother could retort, he added, “You should be more careful Madame, these walls have ears and your son happens to be the only one in your lot who inherited your scheming brains.”

Catherine hid one of her hands behind her back. It turned into a fist. If she were not the mother she was, she would have slapped him here on the spot.

“Tell me I am wrong mother, come on tell me. Say that I am lying and I will go on my knees right now and beg your forgiveness. Look at me straight in the eye and tell me the truth for once.”

“You really need to see a priest, Harry. I pity you. You are clearly delusional.”

“If I am, I am no more than you _Catalina._ ” He said, calling her by her Christian name, in her native tongue.

That made her furious. She stood up and walked up to him. Manners be damned. She slapped him. It did little to bother him, he touched his red cheek then smirked at her and said, “Your Majesty, I hope you two love birds are at least more discreet than your father.” Then he curtsied and left her chambers.

**~o~**

He should have known that his mother would not listen to him. He relieved his servants of his duties for the day and locked himself in his room. Only two guards remained outside. They were told not to let anyone in, including his brother. He didn’t want to hear more of Edward’s laments.

He should be torturing his wife instead. He hoped that his wife wouldn’t have to be as bothersome as his sister-in-law and Edward. The last thing he needed was to deal with an uncontrollable wife.

It wasn’t Anna he opposed as much as it was the idea of getting married. Like Mary, he dreaded the idea of being married to someone he barely knew. Sure, he had learned German so he could talk to her and she knew some Latin so that was something, but other than that, he feared that like everyone else said, she was useless.

He didn’t want to spend his life teaching his wife about how to be a future Queen. His mother would eat her alive. _Because that is what she is good at. As soon as she sees that she is not good at being Queen, she will offer to take up her duties and like a lost puppy, Anna will agree._

His mother had come to England, prepared. Anna had no idea what to expect. Her parents had kept her and her sister Amelia, shut from the outside world. Her older sister Sybille von Cleves had married someone of their own family, so it was easy for her to adapt to her new surroundings.

He thought about his sister. He had thought of murdering her in her sleep, to spare her from a horrible fate. But when he saw her dancing, as lively as she did before this nightmare began, he decided not to. Regardless of what Arthur’s plans were, Mary was still his little sister. She would remain his little sister until his final breath. If she became one of them, he’d find a way to protect her. How? He wasn’t sure, but he was certain there would be a way. There was always a way.

Arthur and other houses would soon learn that the Tudors were not a House to be reckoned with.

**~o~**

After the Prince of Wales was out of distance, Catherine sent for Arthur Dayne again. He was pleased to return without having to put up with His Highness' presence. After hearing everything that had transpired, it was a wonder how she was able to contain herself for so long. If she hadn't hit him, he would have burst in and smacked him to a bloody pulp.

“Why don’t you amuse us with tales of Dorne? You promised me a song. As your royal host, I am expecting something good.”

Arthur asked for a musical instrument. Catherine asked him which kind. He said it didn’t matter. Catherine brought a harp.

Maria pressed her lips tightly. Catherine had never brought something for anyone, certainly not the King whose attention lay elsewhere. For her friend’s sake, she hoped that she wasn’t falling in love. It was sweet that she engaged in harmless games of courtly love, but she was a Queen and if things got out of hand, Henry would not hesitate to punish her.

“Will this be enough?” She asked him.

“It will.” Arthur thanked her. There were so many songs in his head, poems that had remained unsung. He couldn’t use the latter as those would not help trigger her memory. After she’d given birth to Rhaenys, he sang her two songs. One called the ‘the fallen star and the rising sun’ and the other ‘Violet star’.

Arthur chose the latter. Taking off his riding gloves, he moved his fingers smoothly and began to sing.

After he was finished, her ladies had tears on their eyes. Not Catherine, she felt an immense sadness that she was unable to express because being a queen, meant she had to be composed.

“That is so beautiful, my lord. Isn’t it beautiful Kathryn?” Anne Parr asked her sister.

Kathryn nodded her head. “It’s the most beautiful thing we’ve heard and we’ve heard many entertain Her Majesty. Did you write it?”

“I did.” He said and then nothing else until Catherine asked her ladies except Maria to leave. Maria waited on her solar as Catherine invited him to the small library next to her bedchamber.

He asked her in a respectful manner what was the purpose behind this. Catherine told him about her favorite palace in Granada. How she always felt she had a great destiny ahead of her until she came here and slowly her priorities changed. “Now, I am uncertain of what God has in store for me. Are you a man of faith, my lord?”

“No. I believed in the gods once until someone I loved was taken from me.”

“Is that who you spoke of in the song? Forgive me if I seem too forward but I have never heard of so much pain before.” Catherine said sitting down, she invited him to take the seat next to her. Net to them was a table with a tome, a copy of Sir Thomas Mallory’s The Death of king Arthur. She showed him an illustration of Guinevere, being loved by two men. She turned to another page that showed Tristan and Isolde.  
“This story always made me sad. A woman who married a cruel king but her heart belonged to a man who was far beneath her.”

“It says here that ‘in matters of the heart, no one can be higher or beneath.’ Did you write that?”

“I did.” Catherine said. She was captivated once more by his violet eyes. He got closer, and told her of his land starting with part of his family history and how Dawn was created. “When it was given to me, I felt it the highest honor. I pledged myself to the gods, the Prince and the King and vowed that I would be honor bound until the day I died.”

“And you have. You are among the proudest yet humblest lords I’ve met. Your voice, there is something in it I can’t place but it reminds me of my home. When I hear you, I feel like I am back home, playing with my siblings and hearing my parents tell me tales of valiant men.” She closed the book and returned her gaze to him. “Who was the lady in your song, Lord Arthur?”

She was right, it was too forward of her but he didn’t stop her. His cold heart melted as she got closer as well. “She was someone special.” That is all he said. “It is getting late, I must,”

Catherine stopped him, told him to stay. Arthur got back on his seat. “I know what it is like to lose a loved one. When I lost Arthur, I felt despair. He was a good friend who had his whole life ahead of him and then when I married Henry, I thought that my life would be idyllic but I was wrong. I saw as he became a shade of his former self.” Her eyes nearly teared up as she remembered when he stopped sleeping with her and she realized he no longer loved her. “My mother told me ‘do not worry preciosa, a king can have as many mistresses but a queen is forever.’ When I see the way he dances with Anne or Jane Seymour, I can’t help but feel hatred at him and myself.”

“Why would you hate yourself?”

“After I gave birth to Mary I thought that in spite of what the doctor said, God might still grant me another child so we tried until I stopped having my courses and he looked to others for comfort. He tried to make me feel better by telling me it was not him, but me he was protecting. He didn’t want to risk a pregnancy that could kill me. We both knew that was not true but I accepted it. You probably think me a fool.”

“I would never think you are a fool, Madame.” Arthur said then doing something unlike him, he placed his hand on top of hers. “It is only natural you want to be loved. You more than anyone should be loved … Catalina.”

The sound of her Christian name made her blush. With any other man she would have been angry and she should be angry. But something about the manner he spoke, his eyes made his action feel right.

He rose and so did she. “I’ve only loved one woman, a part of me died when she was taken from me. Another one when I gave up the gods. There is only a part of me that remains, one that is bound to duty, nothing else.”

“But you can love. You said it yourself, I deserve to be loved. So do you.” She took his hand

He looked down at it. He wanted this to be right, for her to remember everything. He didn’t want to take her when she was at her most vulnerable. If she was going to be his, he needed her to remember, to know that he wasn’t chasing after fairy tales, that it was Elia who asked him to take her and that everything he’d done hadn’t been for nothing.

But his defenses came down when she put her hands on his face, pushing it towards her, kissing his lips fully. He placed his hand on the back of her face taking down her snood with one pull.

Elia. Her name turned into Catherine. He called out her name after they parted. It was enough to warn her lady who came and asked her if she should call on her lower servants to dress her. Catherine shook her head and told Maria to leave them.

Maria glared at Arthur then turned to Catherine. “I will leave then but will pray for you. My lord.” She said, her voice soft but with a tone of accusation.

Catherine thanked her best friend, reassuring her as she was walking away that she would be fine.

Maria turned to her friend one last time before she retired to her chambers and said, “Just remember what I said. Good night.” Then she was out.

Arthur felt her closer. After all this time she is still bold. Rhaegar thought she was weak and not strong enough to bear another child after Aegon nearly killed her, but he clearly didn’t know her. In Dorne she had walked among snakes and none would harm her. She challenged boys and girls alike and even when they won, she’d always come out hailed as the winner after she’d won them over with her smile or put them to shame with her wit.

He didn’t want to take her just yet. If she came to him, he wanted her to come as she was, as Elia. Fragile as she was, he would just be taking advantage of her and he wouldn’t bare her anger when she finally remembered and accused him of not waiting.

But his defenses came down when she put her hands on his face, bringing it down to hers. He placed his hand on the back of her head, taking her snood off with one pull. Her lips against his, he was pulled from the past and into the present.

This is who she was now and whom he was after. A woman with many faces and a strong spirit, who needed to be told that she was special, and be loved.

Elia. He changed it to Catalina. His sweet desert rose. After he pulled away, he called out her name loud enough to alert Maria who came in and politely asked Catherine if she should accompany the Lord of Starfall to his chambers and then ask her maidens to come so they could dress her.

Catherine told her she was fine and she wanted to be alone.

Maria glared at Arthur Dayne then gave a curt nod to Catherine. “I will pray for you and for you, my lord.”

As she began to walk away Catherine assured her that she’d be fine. When Maria was at the door, she turned and said to Catherine her final words before she retired to her rooms, “Remember what I said. I truly wish you well. Catalina, my lord.” Then she was gone.

Arthur returned his gaze to her.

Catherine felt him so close again. What was so bad in loving someone who loved her back? She had played the dutiful daughter, the dutiful wife for years. She had given everything for her husband and her sons’ sake, and she received no gratitude from any of them. Her beautiful Mary started to treat her like an old hag as well. Why should she have to put up with their abuse? Didn’t she deserve some happiness?

Inverting their previous roles, he placed both hands on her face then leaned forward to kiss her. Catherine couldn’t avoid a moan. She wasn’t able to think of anything. She could only think of him. His lips were the most addictive thing she ever tasted.

Her hands traveled to his chest where they stayed for a while until they moved up caressing his thin beard.

The next thing she knew, he was leading her to her bedchamber, holding her hand. He could hear the whispers from miles away. People were fucking, having fun at their expense. Making fun of her ways, her dress while Mary Tudor was entertained by her brother, their servants along with her ladies and her sister-in-law. No one would notice two people they hardly thought of as important, having fun as well.

He moved his hands to the back of her dress, undoing the laces. “Why do English women have to have so many elaborate dresses?” He complained aloud.

It felt good hearing him joke, act so loose when he was around her. “Thank god that it is not German. My son recently received a portrait of his intended bride and the only thing you can see is her face.”

Arthur laughed at that. He had been there when Holbein unveiled his ‘masterpiece’. Holbein had an eye for detail and he didn’t fail to capture anything. The King was hardly amused, so was his mistress who said that she looked virtuous. A kind way to say she was ugly, the Prince of Wales however thought her attractive and told his father that he couldn’t wait to meet her in person.  
_Young fool._ But at least he was a man who was ready to forsake vanity for duty. _It is a shame he still has to wait a few years before he becomes master and protector of his realm_.

“A future King must put duty before all other things. An alliance with Cleves gives England another option in case things between the Princess and the Emperor don’t work out.” Seeing her glare, he apologized.

“My daughter will make England proud as I made my country proud. And I know that the Emperor will treat her well.” Catherine told him. “I know it.”

Arthur didn’t doubt her. The Emperor was like any other man taken by her youth and beauty. He’d consummate the marriage on the first night of their wedding, and less than a month later after his stay in England was finished, announce her pregnancy.

Catherine helped him off his clothes as he helped her with hers. When they were both stark naked, she thought she looked nothing like what she heard from the Westeros ambassador of the Dornish. His skin was not pale, but it was not tanned by many who lived under a harsh sunny weather either.  
She felt him worship every part of her body. His was gentle with her the entire time.

As she closed her eyes, she lost any sense of space, of time. As his fingers massaged her cunt she found herself moaning his name, first as a whisper, then it became louder. His lips bent down to her breasts and he conquered another part of her body. Catherine’s hands traveled to his hair then to his back after he withdrew his fingers and moved his member closer to her sex. She whispered, “Arthur … I need you.”

He was transported back to the past.

_“It’s a cold morning. How about you stop undressing me with your gaze and come to my chambers to do the real thing?”_

“Arthur.” Catherine’s calling brought him back.

Looking down, he saw that she was nervous. “I won’t hurt you.” He said in a very low voice that reminded her of a dream she had after she’d become a royal widow. There was a man next to that look-alike, promising her that he would never do anything to hurt her. Now this man was making her relive her fantasy.

Arthur wished to be more firm in his statement like the last time they were together, but even in private, he was defeated by the mere sight of her.

Catherine opened her eyes, she didn’t want to miss a thing, her calls were silenced by a hungry kiss. His tongue turned those silent screams into moans, and her moans became more frequent when she felt his release which prompted her own.

* * *

Mary heard about her brother’s confrontation with their mother. _Poor Harry._ She told Kitty that he was trying too hard. "He is too stubborn to admit he wants her approval and she is too stubborn to admit her flaws."

“Well, if the shoe fits.” Kitty said simply, telling her maids to shut their mouths and bring them some lemon pies. “I honestly hate being pregnant. I can’t wait to bring this child into this world so I can go back to enjoy the simple things in life.”

Mary chuckled. “Kitty, you look fine. Has Edward not been complimenting you?”

“It’s not that. He is worried about you. I am worried about you too. I am sorry for what happened to George. I truly am.” Kitty said, placing her hand on top of Mary’s.

Mary felt Kitty’s gentle squeeze. She could also hear her niece’s heartbeat. She was sure it would be a girl. Mary placed her other hand on top of Kitty’s. “It is past time I put it behind me. I was such a…” She stopped, searching for the right word. When she found it, she shed a tear, “… a child. And I still am a child.”

“You are not Mary. Being in love is not a crime. Hiding your love is. George went abroad to impress you. He confessed to my cousin, who confessed to me that he wanted nothing more than to be worthy of you. He never stopped loving you.”

“It is not fair. He didn’t need to impress me. I would have convinced my father to reward him for his love. He needed nothing from anyone except me.”

“It is sometimes harder for men who come from nothing to marry royal spouses than it is for women like me, who do.”

“But George didn’t come from nothing. He was a Howard like you and a Boleyn. His father was ambassador, he had earned two earldoms and his sister was made Countess in her own right.”

“Exactly. They had all won those posts through their merit. George wanted to have something that was truly his own, not inherited or passed on, or favored simply because of you. He wanted to be independent. Trust me, Mary. A man who doesn’t have something of value, will never feel like a true man.” Kitty said knowingly, referring to her parents’ situation. “My mother was not from a great family but my father was and when she received a great inheritance, he became jealous and he spent the rest of his life trying to become a rich man. It killed him and my mother as well. After she left us with the Duchess Dowager, I took refuge in music and dancing until Her Grace hired new tutors and the rest you know. Thankfully, I found your brother.”

Mary knew the story all too well. She questioned Edward’s motives at first but seeing how deeply in love they were, she quickly changed her mind. She became friends with Kitty. Being almost the same age as her, Kitty was happy to become her friend as well.

“I am glad that you did. I am only envious and I cannot help it. I have never felt this way about anyone and I am not sure if I can go on like this. My mother is angry, my father is busy planning my wedding and then Harry’s wedding, and Harry is just so secretive.”

“Since when has he never been secretive? The Prince of Wales has no personality other than to intimidate, am I not right girls?” Kitty’s ladies nodded. Some looked away, Mary suspected it was because they had known her brother _personally._

“It is different this time. Edward is present, but Harry is more distant than usual and when I told him about what I could hear behind closed doors, he became worried, almost sad. I have never seen him like this before.”

“Can you blame him? He is worried for you. He shouldn’t be. You will marry the Emperor and be the most powerful woman in Christendom, he should be happy. And you should be happy as well. I knew George and if there is one thing I am sure of, is that he would have wanted you to be happy.”

Mary smiled, thanking her friend and sister for her support.

Allem stood outside the Duchess of York’s bedchamber. He had blanked the guards’ memory of his presence. When Mary was escorted by her ladies back to her room, he was gone.

He went to his chambers to wait for Arthur. While he waited, he picked a book from his brother’s collection. It was the story of the kingsguard. Arthur’s name was recorded there as the ‘Sword of the Morning’. He smiled as he read his brother’s accomplishments. As he closed it and was about to put it back in its shelf, a letter fell.

He opened it and began to read. When he finished, Arthur arrived. His hair looked disheveled and the harshness from his eyes were gone. In its place was the mischievous glint he had seen whenever he was sparring with his companions or around Princess Elia.

Seeing the letter in his brother’s hands, Arthur opened his mouth to explain but then closed it. What could he say? The truth was known. His brother was bound to find out sooner or later.

“With truer hearts. You will be my sword plunged into my sheath. It wasn’t you that caused this, it was her. It was her and now you want to risk our entire coven for that bitch!”

“Allem!”

“No. You swore to me that it was all you. That you put her in an early grave. You said that to Ashara as well. I was there Arthur. Ashara said that it wasn’t you. I didn’t understand what she was saying, I only focused on what you were telling us. ‘She is being punished because of me. Rhaegar suspected us and that is why he took Lyanna Stark.’ But that was just another lie from a wolf in sheep’s clothing.”

Arthur’s face hardened at being called a wolf.

“You don’t like it do you? But that is what you are, Arthur. You are no different than saintly Ned Stark and all his disgraceful ilk and their descendants who disguise themselves as penitent men. You sold us a lie. I thought that the curse was because of your sins but it was because of her. Now you want to invite her into our household. Her! The same woman who tricked you and caused the downfall of Dorne.”

“She didn’t cause Dorne’s downfall. Doran saw that I was intent on marrying her so he arranged a marriage to the King’s son.”

“That is not the full story. Why don’t you tell me, right here, right now, what she said to you? What did she promise you, Arthur? Eternal love? Women like her don’t love!”

“Lower your voice.”

“Why? Are you afraid you will make her remember you? Isn’t that what you want though? So you will be her pet again?”

Arthur’s face remained neutral, but his eyes had become cold. Bitterness rang in his voice when he told Allem, “Maybe it is best you go to Spain. The Princess will be married to the Emperor soon and you can watch her from there.”

“So that is how it is going to be then? So long and goodbye?” Allem shook his head, laughing coldly. “Maybe that is why you hate Mary so much. Because you know that unlike her mother, she is pure and untouched by malice.”

“Now who is being a liar? George didn’t die, he escaped.”

“What? Why aren’t the sisters hunting him?” Allem asked, alarmed that his brother had not informed him of this. George Boleyn could bring down everything they’d planned.

“He could expose us all. I will ask you again, why aren’t the sisters hunting him?”

“I heard you the first time. He’s taken refuge in the red priestess’ temple. Their magic, despite weak against ours, protects him from Amarna and the rest. As long as he is there, he is safe.” He said, feeling a huge disdain for the rest priests. Arthur always considered them an ambitious, barbarous lot. Rhaegar had the poor sense of listening to them after they convinced him that he was their savior.

“Then they should try harder. He must be caught.”

“You have really fallen for her.” Arthur said, finding the whole thing pitiful.

“This is not about her.”

“But it is. You have fallen for the princess. What do you think, Allem ? That you can sweep her off her feet like some knight from her favorite songs? If that is what you want to believe, be my guest but mark my words, she is just like her father, just like her grandfather and his grandfather before him. She will break your heart.” Arthur said, then walked to his bedchamber, and closed the door behind him. It was a few hours until sunrise. He expected Allem to be gone by then.


	6. Out of the Devil's clutches

Amarna knocked on the door of the temple. She was greeted with the traditional red and white garbs that the Red Priests of Dorne wore. Last time it had been a man, this time it was a woman. Interesting. If she and Mors weren’t too much into each other, she’d make a delicious pet. It was a shame that unlike their Christian counterparts, the red priests had spells to repeal them. Not today though. Amarna wondered why they’d send a third grade intermediary to deal with her. Ah, well. In the mind of the religious, there is never a sure way of knowing.

“Amarna Sillas. Reckless, fornicator and above all, the biggest of the Starfall killers.” The red priestess who welcomed her inside said. “You have come for the boy, haven’t you?”

Once the doors were closed, Amarna gave a long, tired sigh. “It’s been years since I have been able to step foot in this fancy lodge again.”

“This is not a lodge. This is the Lord of Light’s sanctuary.”

“Yes, yes, they all say that.” Amarna said, referring to every priest she’d feasted on. “The one thing they never get the answer is ‘where is my God?’ before I suck them dry. I wouldn’t call myself a killer. I stopped caring about the criminals you kept in your sanctuary since I turned thirteen.”

“You mean, since you looked thirteen. Immortality is a curse, Mistress Sillas. You should know that by now. Lord Rochford certainly does. His faith has kept his strong.”

“It has kept him weak. He could have jumped from the tallest building the minute he found out what we were, but instead the thought of seeing his poor Mary, made him put up with all the horrors. It’s also pathetic if you ask me.”

“That is why I didn’t ask you. Why is it that you are really here?” The red priestess asked. She didn’t have a necklace with a ruby in the middle which made it easier for Armana to figure out that she was as she looked, young and inexperienced. “The High Priest of the Temple of Dorne has decided to keep him here until he is safe to travel. His experience at Starfall castle has left him scarred.”

“I am not surprised. He is such a hopeless romantic. You still haven’t answered my question. Why let me in? You know that once you let a vampire in, magical wards become useless.”

“Magic is never useless. It can be used for good or bad. You’d know that if your Lord taught you that instead of turning you and your brood into killers. Everything has a purpose. If the Lord of Light wanted your master dead, he would have left him to rot at the tower of Joy, but he didn’t. He has a destiny to fulfill.”

“And what destiny is that, your eminence? Mourn his sister for the rest of his life? It wasn’t just him, your red god cursed, it was all of us. I was just a farmer’s daughter. Me and my siblings had no quarrel with the big Houses in Westeros until they declared war on the Targaryens. If the Northern lords hadn’t rebelled, I would have lived the rest of my days peacefully.”

“If you truly believe that, you are an idiot. The Lord of Light does no things by accident. The Targaryens were bound to fail. If they didn’t then Azhor Ahai wouldn’t have risen and the Night’s King would still be around, ruling the entire world. But I can see that I am not going to get through you, so let us reach an agreement. You leave the Viscount unharmed and the High Priest will agree to send you his worst to you as gifts.”

“Tempting offer but I am not the one calling the shots. The Lord of Starfall and his brother want him gone.”

The red priestess put down her cowl. It revealed a blond woman with blue eyes and tanned skin. Amarna guessed she was one of the High Priest’s most eloquent followers who was sent to preach the ‘good word’ all over Dorne.

“Allow me to be the first one to lament that you traveled all this way to nothing.” The red priestess said. She gestured to two initiates to escort her out of the temple. They wore black cloaks and red masks. Nothing could be seen except their eyes which were dark brown.

“My master won’t be too pleased when he hears that you refused his offer.”

“Your master has no power here. The High Priest can conjure another barrier to protect the Viscount as long as he is here.” Knowing what she was going to say as a result of her last words, the red priestess warned, “We are not afraid to die. We have devoted ourselves to the pursuit of truth and eternal life. If you kill us, you will simply grant us that which we seek.”

Amarna said nothing. After she left, the red priestess went to visit the Viscount. Several of the High Priest’s pupils were assisting the temple’s healers.

“How are you doing, Lord Rochford?” The red priestess asked the English noble. “By now, you must have known that the news of your ‘death’ has reached England.”

“I know. Healer Andrea told me.” He said, referring to the black haired, dark skinned healer who was applying paste on his legs.

George Boleyn had a chemise and simple shorts. The healers had fed him and looked after his wounds with such care that he hadn’t seen before, except in Catholic hospitals and pagan communes when he was lost in one of the forest near the Chateau de Fontainebleau. “Has the King sent a searching party to retrieve my body?” George asked her.

The red priestess and her companions didn’t miss the sarcasm in his last words.

“I am afraid that His Majesty has decided to postpone the retrieval of your corpse until his daughter is married. I am deeply sorry.”

George gave a cold laugh. “This is her.” He said, referring to the Queen of England. “She never wanted me to be a part of the royal family.” He added with scorn, “I can see her now, drawing attention away from His Majesty’s new mistress by dancing one of her Spanish dances then proposing a toast to the new Holy Roman Empress.” He should have taken Mary’s advice. He didn’t have to prove nothing to anybody, except himself. _The two of us could have been married by now._ The King had forgiven her aunt when she married Brandon. He would have surely forgiven them as well. Mary was his pearl after all. The King often bragged that she was the brightest jewel in his treasure chest. George remembered when he told the French ambassador _“A jewel as bright as the sun, possessing more warmth.”_

He remembered what Mors said. “One of Dayne’s servants said that he didn’t want revenge but justice. He said that his master knew of a way to bring his daughter back. Is there a way?”

The red priests looked at each other. The main healer was the first one to address George. “There is a way. Before Queen Nymeria and her group of refugees came to Dorne, there were stories about the water dancers. A group of sorcerers who were said to summon dead souls into new bodies. Incensed by these practices the new ruler of Dorne ordered that they be punished.”

“Let me guess, Princess Nymeria and Mors Martell.”

“Exactly.” Andrea said. “But not all of them died. Legend says that the last of them married one of the most powerful Dornish Lords.”

“Who happened to be Arthur Dayne’s ancestor.” George said. Andrea nodded. “Why didn’t Princess Nymeria burn them as well? I am no historian but from what I read, Nymeria wasn’t afraid to put to the fire everyone who didn’t bend the knee to her and her consort.” George recalled. In that sense, Nymeria and Mors Martell were very similar to Catherine of Aragon’s parents. _Go figure, the Dornish Princess gets reincarnated to another bastard family._

“Princess Nymeria and Prince Mors needed the big families to put down insurrections. House Dayne is one of the oldest houses in Dorne. After they aided the Prince and Princess they agreed to give up their old gods and worship the Seven.”

“And Princess Nymeria believed them?” George asked with a raised eyebrow.

“No, but her first consort did. He had been friends with the Daynes before Nymeria came into his life. The Lord of Starfall promised he’d never do anything to disgrace his new rulers. Everything went well until the Prince died. The Princess’ new husband wasn’t like Mors. He belonged to a lesser house, subservient to the Daynes no less. She promised that he’d get Starfall if he killed Lord Dayne’s wife.”

“And let me guess, he did?” George supplied.

Andrea nodded again. “But that’s not all he did. After he and the Princess lured her into a trap, they invited her husband and forced him to watch as their soldiers raped her. Before she was killed, she cursed them. She said that one day one of her descendants would spread the curse upon those who wronged her, including the Martells.” Andrea paused. Although she was the main healer, she was not high in the ranks like the third grade red priestess. She looked at her for confirmation, when she nodded, Andrea resumed her tale. “Princess Nymeria didn’t believe in curses but her new consort. People whispered that his accident was no coincidence. Her third husband outlived her, and the Martells were prosperous until the army of the dead. Nobody took the curse seriously, hardly anyone remembers Dorne’s past except for a few scholars.”

“Supposing that what you’ve told me is true, wouldn’t it make sense for Arthur Dayne to kill all the Martells?”

“The Martell has died out. But in a way, yes. That would have made more sense. The thing with curse though is that they are never certain. Humans are messy and her magic isn’t the only one that is strong. The Dayne’s sword, Dawn was fashioned out of a meteor. Some have said that is as ancient as the water dances. It is impregnated with magic of the purest kind. The method behind creating such a sword has been lost. But when Ser Arthur Dayne stabbed that relic, he unleashed his ancestor’s curse.”

George could sense there was something more to the story, so he continued to listen without interrupting her.

Andrea turned to the red priestess. “The blood that came out of the holy of Holies was her blood. To further humiliate the Daynes, Princess Nymeria ordered that her ashes be stored into the seven pointed star. Ser Arthur Dayne’s Dawn was what got the relic to spill her blood. When he feasted on her blood, he unleashed her curse.”

“Her last words before she died were ‘Blood is the life, blood is the conduit of the soul.’ Ser Arthur didn’t know when he stabbed the seven pointed star that he was being offered her blood from the underworld.”

George decided that was enough, he raised a hand and asked them, “Fuck that. How do I kill him? How do I save Mary?”

“You can’t. Once a person drinks from his blood, there’s nothing that can be done. I am sorry.” The red priestess told him, there was nothing in her tone to suggest she was lying.

“There’s still more. After Ser Arthur turned the rest, he started reading ancient books, trying to find ways to bring back his loved ones. He found out about his slain ancestor and after the High Temple was established in Dorne, he drained some of our preachers to gain more knowledge about how to bring souls back from the dead. Andrea’s parents left her with us when she was a child. They were mistaken as red priests and attacked by the sisters.”

“The High Priest decided to place stronger wards on this temple after that. It is what kept us safe all this time.” Andrea said, there was a pained look on her face that made George feel pity for the poor woman.

“The water dancers didn’t write down much of what they learned.” The red priestess said.

“Yet Lord Dayne knew.” George said. “Blood is the conduit of the soul. That is what this is about. That is how he knows everything. It still doesn’t answer the question of why he’s targeted Mary.”

“Vampires are attracted to pure souls. Mary’s soul and body is untainted and a descendant of Owen Tudor which makes her into the perfect candidate.” The red priestess said then added, “Her great-great grandfather descends from the legendary Welsh Princess. It was a Welsh Prince who helped Princess Nymeria hundreds of years ago lure the lady of Starfall into a trap. And it was Owen Tudor who tricked Arthur’s sister in the hopes that she’d be desperate enough to accept his stepson’s uncle offer of marriage. But time is running out. A soul can be pure for so long. Arthur Dayne wants Mary to be his vessel for Rhaenys. If she is reborn as an Imperial Princess, it will be easier for him to bring down his enemies.”

“Over a hundred years to plan this out. Perfect, simply perfect.” George said. “That bastard is going to get away with it and no one’s going to stop him. Mary thinks I’m dead, my father, my sisters … Anne.” He looked at Andrea. “Have you heard news about her recovery? She was going to go into confinement last time I saw her. I need to know if she’s alright.”

“News travel fast here. The Countess has given birth to a child. A daughter who’s been made a Marques. Princess Mary was her godmother.”

George was happy to hear that.

“I am sorry but you cannot stay here for long. Amarna is one of the strongest of her coven but not the strongest. She and the other sisters won’t rest until you are found.”

“It doesn’t matter when I go. They will find me.” George then added, “And they can go out in the sun. That was a surprise for me. I thought vampires weren’t immune to sunlight.”

“Newborns can’t stand sunlight unless they are turned by the first of their kind. Amarna has lived long but she isn’t immune. If she spends too much time in the sun, she will die.”

“So what you are telling me is that I must hope I make it long enough so I force her into hiding until its night time again and our positions are reversed.”

“Basically.” The red priestess said. “We will provide you with amulets. They will protect you during daylight, but you have to go quickly. At Dawn, we will give you enough supplies to make your way to Europe.” The red priestess said.

George thanked them. After they left Healer Andrea asked her why didn’t she tell him the truth. “If I do, he’d not leave. He’s bound by the code of chivalry as his master, Henry VIII.” She paused, thinking hard of how she’d justify the next lines. When she found the right words, she said with a sad tone. “We are not bound to one person or one master. When we came into His service, the High Priestess showed us what the Lord of Light had in store for us and we accepted it. We can’t outrun our destiny.”

“It doesn’t make dying any easier.” Andrea told her.

As promised, when dawn came, Andrea and the red priestess gave George all he needed to make his way back to Europe. Amarna and her sisters thought he’d be there longer. When they found out he wasn’t, they attacked the temple. No one was spared, including the High Priest who was found praying in the chapel. He told the sisters he’d seen his fate in the flames and wasn’t afraid to die, but pain made him rethink twice.

“Find him. Search all Dorne if you must.” Amarna told her sisters. They searched the entire kingdom but came up with nothing. They knew he couldn’t be in the other kingdoms, given his desire to get out of Westeros as soon as possible. That only left one option. England. But Mors begged to differ. He had seen some of George’s memories and like most in their coven, came to the realization that if he was going anywhere, it was to Spain or the Holy Roman Empire. He asked Amarna to warn Allem Dayne at once so he’d be ready for him.

* * *

 

One thing the red priests let him keep was the locket with Mary and her mother’s portrait inside. He wanted to go to England very badly, but knowing that Arthur Dayne would be waiting for him there, he decided against it. If Mary is turned by the time I am there, I will burn every one of them.

The red priests had provided him with good information about them. A stake with the heart would do it, but cutting off their head while they were asleep was more effective. Crosses weren’t effective, neither was holy water or anything else of the sort. He laughed. Once again, he’d have to rely on his wits.

While he was aboard the ship ‘El Juramento’, he thought of Mary. _“When we marry, I want to wear something that will astound everyone.”_ She had the perfect dress in mind. Yellow, gold and silver with pearls and a long yellow veil studded with diamonds and pearls. George would wear matching colors with a green feather symbolizing his acceptance in the Tudor family.

He wasn’t afraid to call himself a dreamer, for that is what made life tolerable. It is what enabled him to break free of the vampires’ evil restrains. Without hope, he would have gone insane.


	7. No other choice

**_"We are never going to survive  
unless we get a little crazy."_ **   
_**~Crazy by Seal** _

Arthur Dayne had been honorable once. He sacrificed his honor for one woman. Elia Martell. Despite his best intentions, every time he looked into the mirror he saw the same figure staring back at him. He didn’t make excuses for his action. What he was doing to that girl was terrible and he didn’t feel in the least bit terrible. It brought him one step closer to her mother, and to fulfilling his dream of avenging her death in her past life.

Having the King of England see his daughter become a monster and his wife of many years in his arms was an added bonus. The Tudors had cost him his sister, Elia, Rhaenys and his best friend’s son. Eddard Stark’s brother-in-arms who stabbed him before Lord Stark delivered the final blow, had become lost in Dorne. Arthur disguised himself as an old man in the middle of night, claiming to know where he could stay.

It took the (now) old Reed to recognize the castle. Howland Reed was a green seer. Ashara used to tease him and tell him he was one too because he could sense things before they happened. As far as Arthur knew, he had no special powers other than the ones he acquired after he became a vampire.  
When Howland Reed realized who he was, Arthur donned his disguise and told his brother and his minions to come out. Howland Reed tried to defend himself, pulling out his sword but they were faster. His memories revealed to him that the Tudors had been the other culprits behind Elia and her offspring’s murder, as well as what led to her sister killing herself.

Having Rhaenys reborn with Tudor blood flowing through her veins was a small price to pay.

He looked to his left. Catherine was a heavy sleeper like in her past life. Her dark locks covered her face. He pushed them away to see her smiling face. In Dorne, she had walked among snakes and none would bite her. In King’s Landing she fought with dragons and lions in the red keep. The first nearly killed her, the last did that when they stormed into the castle and ordered their beast to do their dirty deed.

He kissed her lips. That woke her up. “Good morrow.” She said.

“Good morrow.” He said in return. “You look more beautiful in the sun, Catalina.”

“It’s been long since I had another man call me by my Spanish name.” She said. When Henry married her, that is all he called her. Then their second son was born and he became distant. She thought that Mary’s birth would solve that, but it only made it worse. Though they both adored her because she was their only daughter, Henry no longer felt the same for Catherine. She tried flattery to bring him back into her bed but nothing worked. It took her finding out about Henry Fitzroy to realize that Henry no longer loved her. He cared for her but he didn’t love her anymore and that hurt her deeply. She had been told from the age of 3 that it was her destiny to be Queen of England. _“Never settle for less. God wants you to be Queen, mi hija.”_  
“What if I can’t succeed?”  
“Then you would have failed God. God is everywhere. He is omnipotent. But he is not an enabler. He doesn’t want to take our glory. He gives you a task and expects you to do it.”  
Her mother was right. Catherine was wrong. She was destined to be Queen of England, to be mother to the next ruling monarch, but she naively thought that her marriage would be like her parents.

“Is there a special way to call you in your native language?”

“You have read plenty about my homeland but Arthur doesn’t have any Valyrian translation. It’s a basic name.”

“I beg to differ. It is a name of kings. Maybe you have Welsh blood in your blood?” Catherine suggested.

Arthur chuckled at that. “That would be something, wouldn’t it? It’s just Arthur. There’s nothing special to it. My House has been in Dorne for generations since before Nymeria.”

“So how would you say it, in your accent?”

“Arthur Dayne. Like I mentioned, there is no accent. That’s just the way my House speaks.”

“It is a beautiful way of speaking. Much more upright than the way the English speak, but less proud coming from your lips.”

“You do me a lot of favors. Though I do speak better than my brother. He stuttered the first time he learned how to sing and say poetry. He could only do it with me around.”

“I am glad he got past his timidity.” Catherine said. “What made you get past yours? You hardly speak in public and when you do, it is just to offer a sarcastic remark.”

“There is a reason for that but if I tell you, I would bore you.”

“You won’t know until you try.”

“If you insist. I wasn’t shy. My best friend and I would disguise ourselves as simple men and go to nearest town and sing songs. They’d give us pennies just so we could go on. My voice was not as good as him so he got all the money. After we were done, we gave the money back to the people or donated to church.”

“So you do believe in the gods.” Catherine said. Her lips curved into a triumphant smile.

“I did. After someone dear to me died I started to question their motives then I outright condemned them.”

“You haven’t told me how she died. Was she young?”

“She was.”

“How did she look?”

“She was very beautiful. Defiant, she always spoke her mind and she always had a knack for looking out for people. She was to put it simply, brave with a gentle heart and a sweet wit.”

“She sounds like a wonderful person. You know, when my mother died, I cried for days. Then I received a letter from my father who told me that she wouldn’t want to see me sad. My mother was a strong and proud woman, she taught her daughters to be equally strong. Crying wasn’t going to solve anything and I had a destiny to fulfill so I got to work on fulfilling it.”

“You remind me of her. She used to say that I had a destiny too but then her family married her to another and everything went downhill from there.”

“But you still loved her, didn’t you? You didn’t hold her back or resented her for doing what her family commanded her. Any other man would but you stayed true to your feelings.”

“Being true to one self is not enough, Catalina.” He said, saying her name again which caused her to blush. He caressed her cheeks. Rhaegar’s fingers were soft while his were somewhere in between rough and delicate. Elia used to tease him about it. Judging by her expression, Catalina found it funny too.

“We do not always choose who we love but we can decide how we want to protect them. Part of me still loves Henry but another feels drawn to you. Henry would surprise me at night dressed as Robin Hood with his band of merry men. He sang me songs, wrote poems until he grew tired. You remind me of him at times. You write beautifully and can play every instrument but there is always that sad look in your eyes. You shouldn’t hide your talent from the world. Your touch is firm, not rough or gentle but firm.”

“Sometimes it is better to hide one self from the world.” Arthur said.

“I don’t believe that and I don’t think you do either.” She told him. And how to argue with that when she was right? He was tired of hiding.

* * *

The King of England held another feast. His wife claimed she was too sick to attend so she wasn’t at his right side when the festivities began. Instead, their daughter took her place. Everyone referred to her as Her Imperial Majesty. It was a given that in two days time she would marry Charles.

As he listened to the musicians play a familiar tune, he was brought back to the time he first saw Catherine. She was the most beautiful thing he ever saw. He vowed that he would make her his wife one day and even after his father forced him to reject his betrothal, he was still determined to marry her. He lied to the world that his father -on his dying breath- asked him to marry her or else his would not be on peace. It was a harmless lie that got him to convince the privy council and parliament to approve his union.

There was another reason why he wanted to make her his wife. Henry wanted to show the world that he didn’t owe anybody anything and that like his maternal grandfather, once he saw, he was determined to get it, regardless of the consequences. When the two were crowned in Westminster he felt like Zeus becoming King of the gods next to Hera.

Things had been hard on them the past ten years. Catherine wanted to give him another child. She believed that a newborn could rekindle their love but truth was, even if it were possible for her to get pregnant, nothing could bring back what they once felt for each other.

Henry still loved and idolized her, but he was a King. A king was beholden to God and his people. He had to think of the future. His children were England’s future and Catherine was his past. His wife had a simplistic world view, she thought of the world in terms of black and white and believed that his affairs with her former ladies-in-waiting were proof that he no longer loved her. She was wrong. Henry still loved her but he was getting older and so did she, he needed to feel young so he could live long enough to see his eldest marry the Princess of Cleves and have offspring.

Kitty was a fun daughter-in-law, but she wasn’t queenly material. He much preferred his heirs to be of royal descent.

Mary noted her father’s look and asked him what was wrong.

Henry smiled at his pearl. Mary had always been an intuitive child. He was confident she’d make a great mother and wife. Spain was really lucky to have someone like her. “Nothing, I am just thinking about your mother.”

“Mama has been secretively lately but she still loves you. All she wants is to please you.” Mary pointed out.

“She does but she also wants us to go back to the way things were and I am afraid I can’t give her that. But rest assured, I still care for her deeply.”

“I know you do. Tell you what, why don’t you surprise her in her bedchamber like you used to when you were young. She will love it. You can be Robin Hood or even better, King Arthur and the knights of the round table. She will feel like Guinevere.”

Henry liked that idea. Why not? They were no longer young but they were not that old either. And he had seen the way that proud Lord had been looking at his wife. Seeing him in costume would make her forget about the Dornish Lord.

The next day he talked to Charles Brandon to tell the other young men in his circle, including their ssons to dress up as knights in shining armor. He would be King Arthur. When Catherine was with her ladies, playing chess or reciting poetry, they would burst into her chambers, then reveal themselves to them.

“This is insane. What if the Lord of Starfall is there?” Edward asked his brother.

“Do not remind me or point the obvious.” Harry said harshly to his brother. This was one of his father’s most ridiculous ideas. Not because he still thought of himself as the handsomest prince in Christendom, but because it was a boost to his ego. “If he bursts in and sees her playing in the sheets with the Lord of Starfall who is also responsible for our sister’s affliction, he will lock her up in a tower like Henry II did to his wife.”

“Then what do we do? Because I am all out of ideas.” Edward said and Harry wasn’t surprised. His younger brother wasn’t the smartest pebble in their bunch. But he had a point. There was no way to stop his father without making him suspicious.

“And then there is Cromwell.” Harry added after he told them all their options. “Thomas Cromwell pushed for my marriage and lady Elizabeth being given that title. If our mother is exposed, he will use her affair and Arthur’s nature to arrange for another Protestant union.”

“Which will make your future wife just happy.” Edward mentioned. “No offense but it is the truth. Her older sister is said to be the power behind her husband’s ducal kingdom. What is to say that Anne won’t follow in her sister’s footsteps?”

“Anne of Cleves was raised under lock and key by her father. Her whole education consisted of how to knit and sow, and run a household. She doesn’t know anything and will have to rely on me to keep her in check.” Harry said.

“Spoken like a true gentleman. Sometimes you sound more like our grandfather than our father.”

“Edward IV?” Harry asked with a skeptical brow, laughing at the thought of being compared to that vicious lecher. He had his share of fair women, but didn’t over-indulge.

“Henry VII.”

Harry’s laughter died quickly. “I am nothing like that man.” Harry said. He never felt like he was part of the Tudor Dynasty. He loved making people believe that he was proud to be named after two great Tudor kings, but truth was he felt closer to the men in his mother’s family. Not Charles. Dear God No! It was the Trastamara men whom always fascinated and he strived to be as.  
From what he heard of his grandfather, he was nothing but a miserly king, a usurper who had no love for his wife and his children except for his eldest daughter and she turned out to be an emotional wreck.

“I didn’t say it so you would feel offended. You shouldn’t believe everything that our tutors told us about him. Sir Thomas More said some terrible things about him because he locked his father in the tower but our grandfather would have never done that if Thomas More would not have caused so much trouble.”

“Since when is pointing out the obvious to the King of England, treason?” Harry asked in a nonchalant tone.

“When it threatens to upset the natural order of things and stir the people to rebellion at a time when the king is busy putting down rebellions in the North, a king has every reason to take action against the person spreading lies about his tax policies.”

“Sir Thomas More wasn’t spreading lies, he was pointing the obvious. Your view our dynasty as all powerful but we are no better than every other monarch in Christendom. The difference is that we are better at making people believe our lies.”

“You know what I mean!” Edward said. “I am not gifted in rhetoric like you are. But you understand what I was trying to say. Our grandfather was not firmly established on the throne and with everyone plotting behind his back, it’s no wonder why he suspected Sir Thomas might have been part of a major plot. He was a young lawyer at the time, and he has been taught by professors who planted ideas in their students’ heads that they should held monarch accountable. The cousins’ war was still in people’s minds. If a monarch as skilled in combat like Richard III could be deposed or the son of Henry V who had a son and a strong wife to take the reins of power when he couldn’t, could be as well, what makes you think that people didn’t think that our grandfather could as well?”

“Our grandfather could have taken a different course of action. I am surprised that our father still agreed to finish the rest of his majestic chapel.” Harry said. To him the Lady Chapel in Westminster Abbey was a complete waste of time. The fund could be used for something better like building hospitals or charity houses for the poor.  
“But if that is what you choose to believe, who am I to change your mind by pointing the obvious?” Harry said then added, “Coming back to our mother’s grave matter, we could always scream from the top of our lungs like you did when you convinced father to surprise your wife.”

Edward chuckled. “That was fun, wasn’t it?”

“If fun means dragging your brother out of his room and convincing our father to have me participate in your ridiculous little plan to surprise your wife, then yes.”

“You had a great costume. Sir Prudence.” Edward said. His lips formed a thin line when his older brother glared at him. “You enjoyed it. Remember Joan Bulmer?”

Harry did remember Joan Bulmer. The woman with an hour-glass figure and big hips, with a face so pale that it made her look like a corpse. Joan became enchanted with him and started bragging about her ‘night with the future king’. It got annoying and when she tried to steal a kiss from him, his mother and her mistress sent her away. It was one of the few times that his mother and his sister-in-law agreed joined forced.

“If you scream as loud as you did and I shout St. George, our mother will know we are on our way and Lord Dayne being what he is, if he hasn’t told our mother already, will be out of there because our father spots him.”

“Sounds brilliant but you are forgetting one little thing: Our mother is supposed to have her women around her.”

“That is no problem. Our mother has been sick and if she doesn’t have her women around her, it’s because she didn’t want to trouble them.” Harry reasoned. “I am the one who is supposed to point out the failures in our plans, not the other way around.”

“I just don’t want her to get caught. You know what our father is capable of if he finds out.”

“He won’t.” Harry promised him.

He sounded so sure of himself, but Edward wasn’t convinced. If something were to happen to his mother because of that vampire lord, he would never forgive himself.

Harry on the other hand was having his own inner struggles. There was another -more selfish- reason why he wanted to save his mother from his father’s wrath. His mother didn’t know who Lord Dayne was. With so little time in their hands, he’d forced to reveal his true self to her. With no choice but to return to God, her mother would have no choice but return her father’s advances and after that night, she would forget about Arthur Dayne.


	8. Gilded Crown

_"We can be heroes  
if just for one day ..._   
_I will be King and you_   
_will be Queen_   
_and nothing will stand in our way."_   
**_~Heroes by David Bowie_ **

Henry VIII felt excited. It had been a long time since he and his friends had put on disguise. Catherine would dress up too. After their eldest son was born, and she had her churching, she surprised him in his chamber by dressing up as Guinevere. “Be mine?” She asked seductively taking off her golden mask that had the words ‘eternal love’ painted on it. The two also went on camping, enjoying the summer sun. It was in one of these picnics, during May Day, when he crowned her the Queen of Love and Beauty and afterwards made love to her. That led to Mary’s conception.

Their beautiful daughter. To think, that tomorrow she will be holy Roman empress.

Henry felt his son’s hand on his shoulder. Harry gave his father an encouraging smile. He would make a good King. Of that, he was sure. His only regret was that he wasn’t more loose like his younger brother. Edward didn’t mind having fun at other people’s expense. He did what he wanted when he wanted.

He didn’t want Henry to be vicious like their Yorkist ancestor, Edward IV. Lust and gluttony had been his undoing. Consumed by his vices, he had become a shell of his former self. Almost like the usurper. What was his name, again? Ah, yes. Robert Baratheon. His father mentioned him constantly. Henry VIII didn’t know why when the battle for the Iron Throne was old history. Whenever Henry VII talked about it, there was a sadness in his eyes that made Henry ask his father why he felt that way. His father’s response was always vague.

“Thank you son.” Henry VIII told Harry. “I am going to need al the luck I can get. Do you have your costume ready?” Harry nodded and motioned to his father’s bed where their costumes were.

Harry would be Sir Lancelot. Henry VIII, King Arthur. It would be like old times, Henry VIII was convinced.

Harry might not be like his brother but this was a good opportunity for him to let go and be someone other than his councilor and king-in-waiting.

“It is a shame that your sister will be too busy being asleep, for the day that awaits her tomorrow.”

“She will be with us in spirit.” Harry said. And Henry VIII saw the same sadness on his father’s eyes reflected on his son’s. Henry shook these doubts away. He was probably imagining things. That is what happened when he thought back to his father. The man had always been a mental block for Henry VIII. Cold, miserly, he had not allowed Henry to be his own man. He’d become so paranoid after Arthur died that he didn’t let Henry joust or go horse riding.

“Aye, if she were here she would choose to be Morgan Le Fay. You remember how much she loves her. I have never understood her fascination with that incestuous witch.”

“Other versions of the tale hold that it wasn’t Morgan Le Fay who tricked her brother into sleeping with her but her older sister Morgause.” Harry pointed out.

“Either way, it is the same. Other girls prefer the more musical Guinevere, the princesses who get resuced by princes in shining armor like your sister-in-life, Kitty.”

“Those girls are stupid. Mary won’t say it to Kitty’s face, but that is what she’s always thought of girls like her.” Harry said. When time came to dress up. Edward and the others came running to the King’s chambers. They had their costumes on. “Wait, father!’ Harry told his father. He went on to grab one of the mock stag crowns his father put on when he took on the role of the usurper, Robert Baratheon, for the plays that recreated his rebellion. “It is not the crown King Arthur would have worn but it matches the part where Arthur was likened to a stag and I remembered that our Yorkist ancestors also used stags as their symbols.”

“Good call. This will surely please your mother. She’s always been enamored with tales of Westeros.” Henry VIII said, putting on the crown. He looked at himself in his large mirror. His son wore a mock silver armor while Henry was dressed in a golden one that had King Arthur inscribed in Latin on his breastplate. Above them was a crown and the holy trinity, the father, the son and the holy ghost. With the stag crown, Henry looked every inch of the man Catherine married and was jointly crowned with when they were young.

“It suits you, father.” Harry said, glad that his father was back to his old self. He wished that when Edward and him yelled, Arthur ran away, revealing his true colors to their mother.

It turned out that there was no need. When Edward and Harry screamed and the others followed, thinking it was all part of the King’s new act, Arthur was nowhere to be found. Instead, their mother was listening to one of her ladies read from one of her favorite classics.

She was shocked to find Henry all gallant, dressed up in one of his old outfits and wearing that crown.

“My lady, at your service. Will you do me the honor of serving you, fair Guinevere.”

Still romantic to the last. Her ladies giggled, finding the entire scene beautiful. Their mistress was a lucky lady. The only one who didn’t share their opinion were two and of those two, it was Maria de Salinas, Countess Dowager Willoughby, who for the first time, felt sorry for Henry VIII.

Their roles had been reversed. Catherine was the one horning him but unlike Henry’s affairs, Henry was kept in the dark. Did he suspect? She wondered. She hoped not. It would destroy him. In spite of his affairs, the King still loved his Queen.

“Of course,” Catherine said, matching his smile. The smile didn’t reach her eyes but Henry VIII didn’t mind. They had been through a lot but today, he would show her he was still her Sir Loyal Heart. Dismissing everyone for the night, Harry and Edward looked at each other nervously. If Arthur wasn’t there, that could only mean he was with their sister.


End file.
